where am i? moving, it seems, through the labyrinth toward the center. through the passages that wind and twist through myriad ideas. moving, i think, away from the comfort again toward something less familiar. less familiar, perhaps but closer to me in spirit.

and an act that seems like nothing, but holds such significance. like putting them away, storing them in the closet says with some finality that i have moved away for good. not that i ever really felt a mormon. i've never felt like anything. just myself - attempting to find some parameters but not finding anywhere where i could feel comfortable.