Lost

I keep searching aimlessly for things. I don’t know what I am looking for a lot of the time, but I keep doing so – feeling empty, trying to fill the void.

In here I’ve been searching for the memory of a dream I thought I wrote the story of once upon a time – but the words to look don’t come, and so many have the same theme that I cannot find the proverbial needle-in-the-haystack among my thousands of words.

I don’t know why it became so important to find it suddenly. I want to remember the story that has faded. That is all I can understand at the moment.

At the same time, I am constantly searching for something else entirely, but have no idea what that “something” is. Perhaps it is nothing, and as nothing has meaning unless or until meaning is applied, it must mean everything if I am looking for it and feel such a loss without it. But I will never find it, because It is nothing, means nothing – and until I can apply a name to It, I will have to keep searching in the dark.

I watched sunlight drowning in the lake on my drive home; saw the tawny light dancing on the snowy waves, saw it falling away through the damp and the cold to lie at the bottom in the mud and the dark to disappear forever.

I can’t keep my mind – there is too much going on and I am getting lost in images and words that are not my own but that I have the responsibility for because no one else will take it. I can’t remember how I am suppose to remember what I am suppose to remember. Besides, it is all so muddled anyways that I am completley lost and cannot find my way out.

And the fun part is this is my mind. These are the words and the thoughts I contend with; always echoing through what I am supposed to be doing or saying, whispering underneath the current that eats away on the fragile threads that bind me to this place.

Some day this thing that I am will wake up, but I will be gone and something else will be in its place – and I don’t know if that metamorphosis will leave any trace of who I thought I was.