Neither running to nor running from,
But merely to run for the sake of being absent,
From the sensuousness of experiences,
Too long host to something internal;
An object of mood that colors phenomena,
To become something external,
Which hangs in the air like a rumor,
That we hope some truth might put to rest;
Something almost existent on its own,
That can travel among the guests,
But which we hope will not have the means,
To survive the leaving off of its subjects.

- RDW, 11-15-10