What should have been there?

I've got plenty of journals socked away... and I pull them out from time to time and flip through the ten or twelve pages of thoughts captured early on, so I can remind myself that the majority of pages look like this. They are blank - virgin paper with nothing but a few invisible fingerprints left behind by folks who browsed the bookstore shelves before I bought it.

I wish I could say I've never felt this way before in my life... wish this were a unique situation with no prior experiences to compare it to, wish the feelings were brand new. Truth is, they aren't. I've blinded myself with desire - jumped into a tunnel vision and applied blinders - poured myself, shallow as I may be, entirely too deep into something I cannot understand, no matter how many different explanations are proffered up in hopes that I may come to terms.

I feel lost - tossed about on the high seas with a broken rudder and no chart, no navigation aids, no GPS, and only a vague notion of which hemisphere I'm in. (Ah, I see the water goes down the drain counter-clock-wise... a clue?)

I've brought this on myself. I thought it was a monster but nay, (s)he only guards the entrance to that dark night of my own creation. Luke asks Yoda, "What's in there?" "Only that which you take with you", he replies. Luke just took a tool belt and a light saber... here I am dragging a steamer trunk FULL OF SHIT into the cave.