Rowing the boat down the river. The cliffs seemed to cave in on me. I kept paddling away in the little boat. The river looks so uninviting at times. It has been 4 days since I undertook this journey south. There are times when I thought that my arms are aching and that I should stop at the nearest bank. However, the need for urgency is pressing, being human, time is never infinite its a non-stochastic term. I tell not what awaits me furthur down stream, stories had been told to me in warning tones of the "jaws of death", the rocks that can deter even the bravest explorer.

As I keep rowing the boat, in somewhat endless manner, thoughts of the past floated passed my eyes, just like the ghosts at Dunharrow. Questions were asked on certain matters, but it doesn't really matter anymore, because it will have a negative somewhat on each stroke that I take. I am just glad that I am alive so far and that I still have my wits around me.=)