TTK No. 33
Looking through the keyhole at my tiny experience, I search desperately for some semblance of solid ground. I seem to have a faint recollection of such a time. When I felt secure. When nothing was coming or going. When there were no goodbyes. As I search for that place I cannot help but pass my eyes over all the years that have been. And I feel an intense sorrow come over me. Where is that solid ground… Is it there? Or there? I look at every place I’ve roamed, the cities, the faces, the skies above me, and it all just turns and turns and turns over a distant horizon I can never quite reach. The solid ground, there was never such a place. There never shall be. What I mourn is my fading fantasy.