At the end of the day

I don't know what to say. I mean, really: I don't know what to say.

I don't know who I am, what I'm doing, what I'm going to do, what I want to do. Zilch. Zip. A big fat zero.

Kairos says, "Store supplies for when it's safe to grow."

The young oak says, "You can only know that which you have ears to hear; and you can only hear what's happening around you."

I find solace in the beautiful abstractions of bark, the colours of sunset.