Things are moving fast. Not that they change in a tangible way, no, everything is just in motion. I feel Brecht would have liked this nonstop motion. But I am poor in blending in. I am forced to simultaneously belong to it and own this ever-changing bubble, that happens to be my life; my life for the lack of a better word!
These are lonely days. And it feels lonely too. Feeling lonely is different from being lonely and I have learned of this distinction through a long monotonous experience. Population of things, memories, and bodies doesn't have any effect on the cemented loneliness that holds me deep in this unknown space; a space with unknown boundaries, where I can get lost over and over in and out of it, since I never know if I am in it or out of it. Unknown spaces have unknown merits and that is horrifying.
I have changed too; quitting is no problem anymore. Escaping is an engraved recommendation that continuously appears in my bubble. It is a ceaseless fight with me, nowadays an unknown creature, whom I knew once, and felt so close to, but it, she, I doesn't fit anywhere anymore.
Lost, March 2009
