I’ve kept a “journal” in one form or another since 1982. I’ve written pages upon pages of the word and images that have travel the dark hallway’s of my mind. Most of the time it’s because of heartbreak, sometimes just the state of confusion I find myself in. I think it’s harder to “type” ones thougts because it’s easier to backspace than it is to erase the words written. I’ve encouraged others to keep written words. It’s becoming apparent to me that one of the reasons I do keep a journal is that while I tend to be a sounding board for others, many times my words of confusion are spoken into the wind. Yea, I listen to everyone, but few listen to me.
What is not evident is how lost I feel these days. The struggle to keep myself afloat, the uncertainy of my health, the empty heart that beats within the flesh of my body, I’m tired, so very tired these days. It’s not physical, it’s not really mental, just tired. Time is limited, so much has gone by and not been taken. I’ve often found myself lost and unsettled, I’ve decided that I will always be lost, I will fade and no one will notice that I’ve gone.