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Reality is not permanent. It changes, shifting out of your grasp, taunting in its fluidity. Things are changing. Slowly, gradually. Trees whisper their age old songs in my ears, every blade of grass a separate entity. I feel drawn to them, to listen. People are changing too. I feel their energy course when I am close, and can sense it when they are far. Energy seems to be an ever changing constant in my life, beautiful, enigmatic, flowing. Channeling it has been strange. It seems to respond to my every whim, changing to whichever shape I please. It is obedient, yet will not submit. Others cannot see it, but they can feel it. Feeling is simply another way to confirm the current reality. I feel I am able to see things in a different light. The facade i have kept for so long seems mundane, not worth the energy to keep up. Tearing it down would change the realities of so many people. It feels like a large responsibility to be able to change the lives of so many, with the simple act of omitting this one side of, the side i have whispered about, planted the ideas, told people about in every way except blunt and straight to their face. In here, this, this is truly who i m at my most basic level. I have revealed more in here than i ever have to any one. Ever.

Fear is another constant. I fear the unknown, and my quest for knowledge has left me high and dry. I can find no inkling about what is going on, for I seem to be unique. I like it, but at the same time it is terrifying to wake up and not know what you might be able to do today. That same fear is what fed my earlier thoughts of suicide and cutting. Those were obviously not the right choices, It feels odd, like metamorphosis. I cant help feeling like there is something inside, something waiting to reveal itself, something i have unintentionally kept hidden for so long, and have now unwittingly woken up.

People will find out, sooner or later, that I am not who i am pretending to be. I do not dress as i want too, nor do i act as i would wish. The way I type in here is my preferred method of communicating with people, but when i speak the words do not flow as eloquently as they do here, or on paper. I can craft some beautiful things, but people turn a blind eye to the true beauty that is all around them. One only needs to study the leaves of a tree, and they will see untold stories, of growth, of passion, of destruction, of life. I am only beginning to understand, and what little i understand confuses me to no end.

A quote from my taekwondo instructor is beginning to make sense.. "One is never truly alone, one has only forgotten to look up and around to find the way." I have looked up, and around, and found a meager path to tread. Eventually i will find the right path, but for now, I have a path, a confidant, but no guide. All my emotions threaten to steal me off of the is path, to draw me in once more into my despair. I vow right now that that will not happen. Sitting around and moping will change nothing.

I will have to start experimenting more with what energy will and won't do, and what it can and can't do. Only then will i finally figure out what the limits are to my powers.

This entry is long, and i hope you have found enough time to read it. Good night, sleep well, and i will see you in the morning.