Lost People Get Lost in Things
Lost people get lost in things. I don't know why it took me so long to make the connection. Or maybe I did and I just ignored it...which, considering the last couple of years? Almost certainly the case. I've been simultaneously aloof and so fucking aware that the two have become hard to separate. Some real left brain / right brain shit. Two sides, same coin, yada yada. It explains a lot though, this physics of the self. If I find myself deficient in something in my life, I fill that void with something tangible and excessive. Lose a lover in your 20s and maybe you end up shoving your nose in some books for another 7 years. Get jumped by a homeless person twice your size and maybe you end up leaving a city for a completely different one...but you carry that traumatic moment with you for a good long while. A lost person gets lost in the process of losing themselves in order to move on. It's me. I'm lost people. And I'm the one getting lost in things. I'm the on...