I cried to my favorite love songs and can't remember any dreams or thoughts outside the tunnel of my solitary journey. We certainly all have boundaries or borders -- designations of this or that -- some are imposed, maybe of political or physical nature, like the lines on a map between one place and another, and some can be self-inflicted. Mine... imaginary. Having come to accept them, to know them, is to understand that I am their creator. Driving through deserts of the west in solitude.