freehand

I need to find myself. I still need to know so much. As if all the knowing has come down to nothing. The struggle with self continues. As much as I know it is a boon that there is much to know (as if ever we can really know stuff), the thought of the journey overwhelms me. I'm tired, not exhausted, just tired. The good thing is that I get better with little recompence, it may be that one heals better when the wounds are one's own giving. 

I needed nothing but simple and yet each time I observe, I have all but simple. The people have faces, the places landmarks.. I know they really are. But are they? What is it that is right? What is it that is mine? This isn't a dilemma, for the way out the dilemma is a purpose or perspective. I have no idea where I am. I don't even know what this is called.