Sword of omens, give me sight beyond sight!

It's like being on the outside of a fishbowl, sometimes. What can you do but creep around the edge and peer inside, desperation sinking into the core of you -- what's the water like in there, what's it like to swim so resolutely? Instead I am silent and wish for invisibility.

We all have the same eyes, each one of us. Soft light blue like worn flannel.

The pendulum swings wildly from action to reaction and back again. I am a fraud, an alien! There is nothing here that I recognize as my life. You will figure it out, after all it was about a year ago that she found her call to serve. Your call will come but you have to be patient,

when the only thing you want with every fiber of your being is just to be inside, swimming, happily. The overwhelming sensation that invades you during moments of weakness (that nothing you do could ever possibly matter.) That cancerous feeling snaking its way out through your entire body, down to the very last bone. Recoil, sleep, pray that it's gone by the time you wake.

A fraud.