- in the name of Allah -



On the edge of a precipice I can't quite define, I wonder when the rains will come to wash away all these thoughts that were never really mine. How much control over fate do we truly have when what I feel I cannot help but only bait for another time? It isn't destiny that's been preoccupied with me, but a tendency to need and hold that only seems an open sore prone to bleed.

Would I broach the sheer boundary, of a line never crossed before? Could there be return, from where all caution flies to wind, and the moment holds sway and nothing more? My instincts to play it safe and leave the doubtful at bay just don't mean as much as they did yesterday. It's as if a tuner was finally tuned to a wave that brought it to its knees, that all the deeds that it thought would save it became only fodder for excuses to explain why it was missing the very thing it needed most.

If these bits of computer code could be transmitted like radio waves, I'd send a may-day to every corner of the galaxy, searching without fail for the second half to a puzzle barely gleaned complete while submerged in loligags of a soundless daydream.

/start_radio_transmission
*fuzzy crackle* Come in, second half, come in. We have found home base, over. I repeat, we have found home base. *fuzzy crackle*
/end_radio_transmission