I am going through a phase where I have not been myself; my, me who is I and I am self. I am finding myself becoming absorbed with the things that I despise; or once despised, had at one time but now am not sure what I dislike, not yet feeling lost but feel that soon I may feel without a map, something has been stolen from me yet my hands will hold the missing piece - am I a thief? I want the green beneath my covers. I have set down my morning thoughts and scavenged for any glimmering object that may have an ounce of material.