i know why, but i can never put my fingers on how. it’s there, floating around me, but i can’t touch it. it’s not tangible. it’s a constellation that i can admire without feeling the real weight of. i can talk the right talk, but heaven knows i’m struggling to walk the walk. my eyes are open, and they’ll stay that way, but they offer little help. i have the plan but no way to execute it. i have the powder but i’ve long since lost the trigger. in every sense of every word, i have the X, but absolutely no trace of a spot to mark with it. i stumble blindly across the means with only a faint conception of an end, and i have miles to go before i’m through.