It seems that for a while I have ceased to live and by this I don't mean that I am dead or dying. Yet it seems that the spark that is supposed to excite one, excite me, has disappeared. I don't know when this happened exactly, but I do know that in some ways I'm no different than a robot. Living as an automaton I go through all the motions of living, yet I'm not alive.

The funny thing is I'm sure I write something like this every 6 months or so, but this is different. Or maybe it is the same, nothing more than a pattern of searching. What am I searching for meaning, Happiness, or something else ? I don't know, but I know that I don't have it.