Insomnia again.

Sometimes what keeps me awake is knowing I still haven't found what I'm looking for.

This poem by Robert Frost is one of my favorites, it describes in some fashion the restlessness that just won't go away, even if I am unsure of where the destinations are or what it is I am really looking for.

"STOPPING BY WOODS ON A SNOWY EVENING, Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep. "