Fear is: an expressionless face. Gray eyes that know without looking. A cold dampness smothing the back of your mind. A kid in the corner. Gray. Cold. Clammy skin. A motionless pond in an empty place.The Avoident truth. A dreadfull knowingness. Shifting shadows. Stiffled breathe.

I don't understand most things. I'm realizing that i don't need to understand most things. That I never will understand. That no one does. No one ever will. All I need to do is cling to God and stick to what I knew to be true. (Don't question in the dark what you knew in the light.) But in the waves and in the wind sometimes I wonder if I am still clutching to the same thing that I was before, if I have lost my grip. Or if it is only the numbness in my fingers that makes me question what it is that I hold onto, because I am past the stage of feeling.

And I know that the problem is only with me, since everyone else goes around with the sun warming their steps. But sometimes I wonder if there isn't some overlooked truth in the state of dissillusionment.

Ah, and I can't forget. I can't stop questioning. And all the unanswered questions swirl around in a mocking stream of doubts.