There's something wrong with me.

I'm stuck in a rut that I can't seem to get out of, try as I might.

It's stupid, cos it's all lousy selfishness and ecocentricity. Why, I can't even remember the last time I did something remotely unselfish.

It's all been about me, myself and I. Not even God figures in this universe.

I don't even know how long it's been. Procrastination that I've always self-deprecated about is one thing that's seriously hindering me here.

Just once, just once...

I need a break.

From everything.

From everyone.

From myself.

I need to get to a place where I'm not thinking about me. Or anyone associated with me.

I hate this place I'm in.

Solace.

I'm banging at the iron cells that hold me in. My hands are bruised and bleeding, but still I bang away. Despite the pain, despite the hurt, despite the circumstances, I try. And try. Because I don't want to stay here any longer. A prisoner caught in the web of his own desires and lusts. It's all the same. Fulfilment that's merely temporary. Something - something eternal. Something of more substance.

It's all he can do to reach in and take a glance at his soul. A wisp of smoke. The fall of what used to be a flame burning proud and strong. It's almost gone now, he can see. And he despairs. The slightest whiff and it's gone. All gone. Everything he'd worked for. All gone.

Then he sees a hand descend on the flame. And all he can think of is that it's going to be extinguished. The hand is going to fan it off. But it doesn't. Instead, it cups smouldering speck and a breath from above is gently blown on it. And - amazingly - the flame holds. Strenthens, even.

And he realizes that there is hope. Maybe.