I can't help the way you feel. I can't help the way you see the world -- a plaything, monopoly money. You are not real, not designed for this place, an outer space of your making. You think you've got it all figured out; have
you?
I don't think so.
You are lost. Lost among the clouds of despair; and you're not alone. Too many of us feel that life is riven with the haunted sense of "... is this it?"
And it is. Often senseless, meaningless and a patchwork of guilt.














