Progress slips through my hands like sand through a sieve. The old two steps forward, and three steps back tango. A hearty wall of granite. A levee which retards my growth from surging. No mortar needed. Every block perfectly hewn from quarries of memories. The fit so perfect that nothing may slip through. So here I am. Stagnant. It's architecture perfect. The great wall ascends into the colds, and beyond. I spend many hours treading in the self-made quagmire the levee holds back. Basking in it's horrid beauty. A lone monolith stands atop an island at it's center. I am it's watchman. Tasked with surveying it's breadth. For what reason, I do not know. But I must protect this acrid mass. Maybe one day I will understand why. Until then, here I stay. My task forever incomplete.
