I always think abut leaving my mark. It seems to be some sort of goal in my mind. But I'm in a place that wants to preserve itself, where there are plenty of people trying to shape it already, people who have much more of a right to decide what should change, what should remain. Fumbling through the dark I reached out for something and before I realized it, I had left a blemish in this perfect shell of dust. Built up for I can never imagine how long, resting undisturbed. I left my mark and I would do anything to take it back.