current music: American Baby - Dave Matthews Band

There are seven cardinal sins. Some prefer gluttony, some avarice, and others wrath.

The one I struggle most these days is lust. I hate it. And I hate the person I fear I can become.

I worry. I wonder. I contemplate. Lust is something that cuts us off from others as it disguises itself as intimacy, or more accurately, the call for it.

I've often thought that maybe, just maybe, I was destined to be single. I always envisioned for myself a future of glory. In my daydreams, I would see myself and I felt like I stared into the heart of all opportunity. It's like I could own anything, achieve anything. In those daydreams, it was as though an oracle was telling me the future. And it said I couldn't fail.

(Incidentally, someone read my future and did tell me that. But I get ahead of myself.)

I could conjure some real whacked out imaginations. Others were darned cool. Some featured me driving a Ferrari. Others had me flying from city to city speaking before hundreds.

But in all scenes, one thing thing was common: I would do these things on my own. And I shan't share them with anyone.

Is it worth it? If you would never fail, but you'd be all alone?