The past few days have been a time of reflection. The end of such bacchanalia tends to bring that on in force. I destroy, rebuild, destroy, endlessly. A cycle of discovery and rebirth. Though lately I realize there has been far more tearing down than building up. My focus was so great, breaking down the parts of my life that I found unsavory or a hindrance, that I woke up one day and realized I had emptied myself completely. I was a wasteland; scarred and smoldering after a long war.

Not a place to raise a man.

I looked at myself and saw only the emptiness reflected back, etched with the events of my life. Carvings that go too deep to rub out. No sense of self, no identity, no core. Who I am is no longer who I was. I had made sure of that. By god, did I make sure of that.

I always thought an openness of the body, mind, and spirit was the path to enlightenment. If it is, it’s merely the first step. What you build there is the real test.

Emptiness I am familiar with. Acceptance of the universe and your place within it.

Conviction…now that’s a new one.

So this is a journey of construction. I’ve torn down enough walls. I need to put up some shelter before the hard rains come.