I am sitting up in bed wondering why I can't sleep, wondering why I decide to stay up this late. Here are the questions I think about:

What is ambition? What constitutes ambition, and what creates ambition?
If I spent my life trying to reach out and touch things that only I could see, would that be enough?
How does the real world factor in this? When I make my choices, where do I draw my lines? How should I ration out my mental priorities onto physical realities?

Lately I've been smelling this sensation, and I'm not sure what it is. It's a mixture of spring and movement and change and nostalgia, of travel and high skies and long shadows against bright brick walls, and because it smells like nostalgia I'm instantly wary because I'm always wary of nostalgia. I have these very specific visions and I'm not sure if pursuing these visions is enough. There are restrains I have to navigate, pull gently -- are these seatbelts? How do I navigate these storms? Why do I think the way I do?

What are my discourses, my influences, my originating dichotomies?