catch my drift and walk in on my conversation brow beaten about the head.  you merely exchange yourself for another and so on and so on.  to say that we missed the purpose of unpredictability is reacquainting myself with the inevitable.  when you have to count forty loaves of bread, you start to wonder, can i be true to myself?  deep in the ravine, as i recall, trees blowing in the wind of the storm.  i was true to myself and laughed with confidence towards the future.  long ago is not so different than now.  its still on the same road that leads to where you grew up, but the physicality of memory is weathered and destroyed.  put an exclamation point and move on.  the greatest days of my life are set to random.