Oh what dreams have lain down to shatter...

In the end, I find myself at the beginning. But the beginning of what? A lonely view from the bottom of a well? Perhaps.

Or maybe the beginning of grasping wisdom. Eternal and sunshine bright, wisdom that permeates all of life and the universe. Wisdom that knows all this, but stands free from it.

At the end, I find my beginning. Or so I think. A beginning of long hours, filled with futile effort, that bounce back from my hope in pathetic flabbiness, a half-filled longing for security. A beginning of toil so it seems.

At the end of my rope, I find a new dawn. A dawn of not quite the same dreams, and desires. A glow of support surrounds me, but can do no more than lift up my spirits, and hope for a better day tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow holds something new. Something more new than disappointment.

Let this be a lesson then. Things could always have been done to prevent this, but your body must accept the here and now, else we are dreamers without the will to wake up and live our dreams.