lacking a sense of direction, he is not new to fleeting thoughts and the lack of commitment to anything that doesn't nurture his inner spark, the quiet voice that whispers to him everyday, “there's gotta be more.”

he wanders from thought to thought, he occasionally stops to give some of them a chance to ignite, some grow to small fires but nothing to keep him from letting the sparks sizzle out in front of him as he watches, wondering if he lives too much up here rather than the real world to ever really coexist in both.

day by day he realizes the more time he spends up here the more he loses a sense of direction. the lack of direction paired with his desperate attempts at finding anything to spark a fire has him stumbling across uncharted lands.