I cannot tell you where I am. I cannot tell you where I belong. I am not even sure I can tell you where I’ve been, and I certainly have no clue as to where I’m going.
Thrown into the jungle without a compass and without a sun or moon as a guide. At times thinking it’d be better to just close my eyes and take whatever path presents itself. Knowing that choosing a path in blindness may be better than choosing a path to certain failure.
There’s a comfort in ignorance, right? “Well, I didn’t know…” Wouldn’t you like to know?
There’s a lot that’s worth knowing. For starters, I’d like to be able to find myself. The gps module wasn’t installed within me.
Searching. Turning over every rock to find the life within myself – to find what I desire most. So far, I’ve found the harsh, bitter earth flavored with decomposing matter much like my own core, and I’ve been cleaning the grit from underneath my nails for each of the past 2000 days. Hands marked with defensive scars from shielding my face against the obscenities I’ve created. I do not wish to see, but even without eyes, the blind gain wisdom.
Maybe there’s hope after all or maybe I’m just delusional about it all. Maybe I’ll be lost forever.