I haven’t written much this August. What I have written is poignant and wretched. Again it is something I would share if asked, but again you will not. In short the continual self-actualization I have seen this previous year has been repetitive and revealing. The roots go deeper than anyone could have ever known, including myself. To share those roots with others will be the next great test. Showing once more that I have failed to change, and I am more myself than ever. This could bring about an end to many things. I do not wish to be alone any longer, but I am not sure that I can be anything other. I am praised for my ability to be oasis. I am rebuked for the traits that allow that ability. Slowly, slower than ever, my flowers turn toward the sunshine.