I feel as if I have nothing meaningful to write at the moment. Furthermore, this block has plagued me for some time… I’m off center. For several months the kilter of my world has had a 45° axis that twists and turns of its own accord. Unfortunately, I have had a hell of a time trying to re-center myself. But, to my chagrin I have failed miserably. I want to live in a cave for a month. I want the isolation of a sleeping city. I want the blackness of a wheat field at midnight. Somehow, I need to drag myself up from this sludgy pit of self-pity and find the humanity in people again. There are always glimmers of hope, like my parents or the closest of friends. However, these people are semi distant from my life and I miss them all terribly. I have been slowly sliding into my old addictions and vices. How can I save myself from this segregation that I so utterly crave? What the hell am I supposed to do by myself? Why are the machines eating away at me so? In some way I must find a way to return them from their steely shells, rebirthing them to flesh. Hence, I can try to save them while at the same time saving myself.
Maybe I will be able to write again? I do so miss writing…
Forgive me.
