I don’t feel much of an urge. Well, there’s no way that can be completely true, I feel some fire hidden down there and I know it’s something that will only grow stronger with the passing of time. I must remain in power, though, I know that much.

All this self-celibacy has me drawing some interesting and eye opening ideas. Ideas about love and lust and I am now aware of my social shortcomings. I am now aware why I haven’t fallen in love, yet. But I suppose the larger revelation would be that I now know why I can’t seem to feel a damn thing toward another woman. It’s all just momentary aspirations that dissipate when I come within a certain distance of "her". It’s all a day-dream that my mind pencils in when I see that lovely face. And I dream and dream to create the illusion of taking her hand and running down a flowery field, laughing. While in reality I stop with anxiety when I’ve moved close enough for my subconscious standard. That’s when I step backward and swear I’ve discovered all the reasons not to go through with it.

I suppose with the beginning of day 3, I can say that the reasoning behind my current path is just as apparent as it was when I first etched it in stone back then. But I can’t stop…and how can I?-with many solid years of a ritualistic habit I’ve come to adore greatly.

But even still, smokers smoke even though they know that it will eventually destroy them; murderers murder, despite the all-knowing fact that they’ll one day be caught and put on death row.

Sometimes I’d like to say that I’m a fresh breed; a specimen who has full control of his mind. And I play it off to the public eye as such, appearing as sly as a fox or graceful as the proudest soaring eagle. And for a second there I swear I almost convinced myself that that’s exactly who I was, as I sat alone in my room watching porn and smoking the good stuff over and over until reality caved in.

A good friend told me around eight O’clock last night that I was incredibly young. Mind you, this gentlemen was up there in the 40’s, but still, I’d like to believe that to be the truth and may the universe lay down its most violent strike of lightening before I live out an average, unloving life, hell bent and stressed on paying off the next bill.

I look across the water and see a city as magnificent as something written in a well-known storybook. I see tall, lit up buildings that NEVER seem to turn off. I see men, women and children walking the spit covered streets, daring to be optimists, as they attempt to fulfil their wildest dreams.

I want that struggle and I want that drive that I know hides under one of the many un-turned stones in my mind.

or does in matter in the context?

is abandonment a word?

I'm too tired to be trying to write. 

I'm so tired, I'm not sure if that last sentence even made sense. 

ANYWAY, back to my question.

abandon or abandonment?

Step one: A lady of reckless abandonment...