What do I want? Good question. Better yet, what does it mean to want? I’m no writer by any scope of the imagination. I’m just a man… a man who works in a plant. I’m a man who goes to work to make money to go broke (it’s funny how going bankrupt is impossible for a simple man without two-thousand dollars). I’m a man who goes home to a camper trailer that seldom has hot water. I’m a man who sits in front of a small electric heater with a blanket draped over him. I’m a man who has lost his way in a sense. From my meal of crushed up dry Ramen straight from the package, I ponder the state of my situation. Want brought me to this state and strangely want, it seems, will be my only way to something better. I can’t figure out what it is that I want. When I imagine things that I may want my thoughts only lead me to anxiety. The contents of the season packet made their way to the bottom of the packaging and as I dump it into my mouth, I choke on the dust. Now chicken flavoring decorates the inside of my nose. I wonder, will my life be like my meal? Will it be something with little spice and fulfillment for the greatest part only to be a choking, over-seasoned, bland existence with the spice of life being dumped in after I’ve lost my appetite to live. I have needs like any man and they are met but physically and mentally I’m growing cold as a corpse. Yet in this state I feel an urgency. I feel there must be something for me if I could but just want it. I am bewildered. I have heard it said and have been known to say it myself “It’s always darkest just before dawn.” and the very sound of it now makes me want to breathe fire into the void. My life, it seems, is no more than a shadow.