It's the pushing and pulling and never let me go-ing...it's this restlessness that never dies. Stay, leave, rest, run. Which is it I wonder or which should it be or which will it ever be? If I run will I find what I think I'm missing? If I stay will I always miss it? Or is it that no matter what, I will always be missing something...or perhaps someone?

As it is, I feel like I'm floating in a holding pattern with only the clouds to keep me company. But even there in the beautiful, soft greyness, is still this overwhelming stuckness. Maybe the stuckness is stuck inside my head though. Perhaps it isn't real. Perhaps it's just the drowsy effect of the thick, cozy cloud cover hanging drearily from the heavy sky.