The Sun is Ever Rising.

I am no longer convinced that everything is okay.

I am not, I WILL not be placated by small reassurances, by the quiet voices attempting to calm me down, to call me to settle.

This world is ill. Be it a symptom of my location, or of my state, there is sickness here.

I cannot change the world, I cannot fix the broken, I can only fix myself, my own lethargy.

I will climb mountains, I will see hidden places, I will create, and I will let the world create me. I will run full tilt down the boulevards and across the plains, laughing, crying, screaming like a madman. I will jump off the edge of the world, simply to live.