But I am a map folded and filed away, torn and ripped along the main tributaries and you are the reader, your fingers knowing exactly where to point, which direction to go. If only I could open up to that spot long enough for your navigation, long enough for you to pinpoint my whereabouts for that moment. Please forgive me, for I have my own axis, my own line of rotation; my symmetry and pivot not smooth- my journey not certain.... My story plot unplanned. -- Personality Harlot