He prayed the universe had something wonderful in store, and quickly. His patience was running thin and he was in danger of blowing up his life and telling them all to fuck off for good; may the bridges he burn light the way, that sort of thing. He wanted desperately to move forward with it, to claim his original self. He had worked tirelessly to calm the monster within him but in times like these, he was tempted to conjure him again and rule them all through fear, distastefulness, and unpredictability. They were old tricks but certainly did the job, and nicely too. But for now he was on the edge and would wait until the wind blew him one way or the other. He wasn’t ruling anything out at this point but hoped beyond hope that that something wonderful would find him soon before it was too late.