Deep Thoughts: Lost

funny thing is i was never in it for the comments. seriously. they're all well and good. a few moments distraction. perhaps even a smile. strangers leaving pamphlets in my screendoor.

the true urge to compose, for me, comes not from where it seems to for so many others. as lostandnotfound said, to know they are not alone.

while i understand that pursuit, it is not mine. quite the oppposite. to lose myself in the cantations of the mind. to hear that song reapeating so much that eventually nothing else is present.

not to heal, but to cultivate the wound. watching it sour and puss as inch by inch you're consumed by your own flesh.

comments are all well and good. people being people as they often will. interaction.

i'm not good at commenting and i'm not good at receiving them. because, praise fades and what is left. those same hollow words that were always echoing in your head.

the morning will testify. that you spoke, but couldn't scream. becuse every breath has always been relegated to the fish you caught, but couldn't gut.

so much love to waste.

not to be found. rather to be lost.