Restlessness, volatility of destination. Is actually exists something of a Plan?
Grinding, churning and changing. From day to day, even. Quickly and without asking for permission.
For good, for better, for the hopeless. Where am I, who, with who? - I ask from my next brewed coffee that night.
 
"I'll never die again so lightly,
so far beyond my body, so unknowingly
as I did once in his dream. I am too close,
too close,
 
For good, for bad, and for God's sake."