Some days I feel utterly lost inside this world.

Choices must be made, paths followed and goals achieved, yet the choices often seems too many, the paths too difficult and the goals too distant. It’s like staring at the sun with unshielded eyes—there’s too much light flooding in all at once. An overflow of sensation leads to irritation, pain and, finally, the desperate decision to turn away for fear of going blind.

Some days I feel my poor, feeble brain is going to be scorched to a crisp under the onslaught of the information age.

The world is at my fingertips, yet the computer screen feels so distant, and the voice on the other end of the telephone lacks its appropriate visage and feel.

Some days I feel all I am able to do is sit idle and absorb the information being thrust upon me by television, radio and highway billboards.

There’s doesn’t seem to be any novelty left in the world, only the rehashing and redressing of leftover concepts and curiosities of the fifties and sixties. I once heard that only God can truly create anything new, and if that is true, then God must have taken an extended hiatus.

Some days I feel there is no God.

Who is this lofty supreme being who has declared the right to call the shots. Some say God’s kind, some say God’s vengeful, and some say God’s a creation of man conveniently forgotten, but which God am I supposed to look up to?

Some days I think there’s no one left to look up to.

Superman’s dead and Micheal Jordan isn’t an adequate substitute. A man who goes on television and tells inner city kids they should stay in school one minute and tells them to buy his $200 shoes the next, somehow doesn’t seem quite fit for the position of impressionable-youth role model.

Some days I ask myself what’s gone wrong with this society?

A weird thing happened in the sixties. Nearly an entire generation attempted to make a better world for their children. They tore down the illusions of reality and embraced truth, justice and sex education in junior high. However, while they educated and enlightened their children, they forgot to set a good example. They forgot the sacred rule in the jungle of life—monkey see monkey do.

Some days I feel like a rat caught in a maze.

All the great things have already been done. There’s no one to follow but myself, yet the power of choice seems meaningless when the path’s destination is already known and its goal already achieved by another. The only novel choice is up, yet the sun beats pain down with such force, how can I ascend when I can hardly even lift my gaze.

Some days I wish there were a hero to follow into the unknown.

The unknown is that next level of life, where death and sex are no longer taboo, where Hollywood and the media have no wish to sensationalize either and where society holds a healthy appreciation for both. Yet there is no one able or willing to direct us toward that unknown.

Some days I fear we have taken one step forward and two steps back.

Many of the flower children are beginning to decide their better world for the children has somehow gone rotten. Censorship is on the upswing, the government’s gone back to war against third world countries and minority groups are beginning to build their own walls of segregation. The nineties is becoming the stepping stone to the fifties.

Some days I really believe history is merely repeating itself.

Is this maze of life merely one great circle, like the Earth revolving around the sun, and if you hold on long enough you will simply return to where you were? Society often appears to consist merely of lemmings who spend their entire lives chasing their own tails in a frantic crusade into the future past. What happens when one breaks off the chase and looks to the brilliant sun for some meaningful answer or escape?