One of my favorite Star Trek: Voyager episodes. Janeway at her lowest. I love when the characters I love fall apart. Makes them more human. We all have the potentiality to have psychotic breaks. It just a matter of when and where and why. Scaling the mountain of the psyche. Holding on tight to taut ropes, bungie cables. We descend hopping down a little at a time. But sometimes we stumble or fall into cavernous spaces, where monsters live in darkened, black ravines. And we can not see them, but we feel them and know they are there. Every day of my life is a Starfleet Mission. Isn’t that a grand thought? I don’t mind falling apart, knowing that once I settle I will pick up my own pieces and get back up and be stronger and smarter and wiser and more knowing than I was before. I think. I hope. I pray. Mayberry neighborhoods unfortunately live to be burned and destroyed. Constant complacency. It can be hard not to fall into those traps. Lava still bubbles beneath the Earth. Catch a thread through the eye of the needle. It’s fate or dumb luck, depending on how your coin flips. I want to be someone someday. Moreso than I already am. Every morning, I progress, make progress. In time I will transcend who I am now with what I’ve become.