We sail within a vast sphere, ever drifting in uncertainty, driven from end to end.

Is there any place we’re not moving through? Disoriented, lost, at sea, at odds, astray, adrift, bewildered, confused, uprooted, turned around. I’m related to these related terms. These words are my abode, my only foothold.

Life takes us by surprise and orders us to move toward the unknown -even when we don't want to and when we think we don't need to.

We lead strange lives, chasing our dreams around from place to place.

We have no idea where the world is going, except that it's going there very fast.

Our situation on this earth seems strange. Every one of us appears here involuntarily and uninvited for a short stay, without knowing the whys and the wherefore.

We rarely know where we are going; writing is a discovery.

We're forever teetering on the brink of the unknowable, and trying to understand what can't be understood.

It's all a part of this world where we're all kind of mixing a lot, and… in that way we're all a bit confused about who we are, where we belong, where's home, and … who is important to us…

We have advanced to new and surprising levels of bafflement.

And so it goes and so it goes But where it's goin' no one knows.

Strange where our passions carry us, floggingly pursue us, forcing upon us unwanted dreams, unwelcome destinies.

Without always knowing what we were doing we were constantly adjusting to the arbitrariness by which we were surrounded.

I feel as if I've entered a new era of my life. What strange places our lives carry us to. What dark passages.