Yes, it's been a long time. No, I've only been avoiding myself.

So I know where I've been, what have you been up to?

Really. Well, that's darn interesting.

Hey, keep harrassing me about my absence, and I may just disappear again.

What do you mean, I'm not making sense? I'm making perfect sense!



An Individual Galaxy

I was moving along like an undiscovered perpetual motion machine when the Universe stopped.
The sensation knocked me to the cold, wet floor.
I was wearing my last clean pair of pants when this all happened, and so I have walked around feeling slightly damp and chilled through.
I am my own self, I remember. The details are a little vague.

I stare out the window, confused. The promised snow still drops as rain from the sky;
I feel deprived of the blanket in the dark of night.
I miss the quit hush of the world under snow.
I brew hot tea and ponder this elastic existence.

A line in a book I read said something about the wonder of Faith, specifically having Faith in Heaven despite knowing it is unreachable.
When I read this I understood it and found it profound
But cold and wet it is out of context in my head and discouraging.

I cannot grasp this static fluidity of living.
Changing while staying the same.
I regret not brushing my hair before this upset, and in spite I may cut it all off.