For some reason, you will no longer be the person you believed you once were. You'll detect slow and subtle shifts going on all around you, more importantly shifts in you. Worse, you'll realize it's always been shifting, like a shimmer of sorts, a vast shimmer, only dark like a room. But you won't understand why or how.

I will walk heavy, and I will walk strange.

This great blue world of ours is but a house of leaves, moments before the wind.

Have no fear, you will find your way. It's in your bones. It's in your soul.

The finest act of seeing is necessarily always the act of not seeing something else.

Little solace comes to those who grieve when thoughts keep drifting as walls keep shifting and this great blue world of ours seems a house of leaves moments before the wind.

Through all the windows I only see infinity.