Beyond Desire..
Somebody asked me what I really want.
And the answer wasn't love.
It wasn't happiness.
It wasn't anger, temptation, success, or desire.
What I want is something much smaller, and somehow much harder to find.
I want a little existence.
I am tired.
I am abandoned.
I am isolated.
"What my body is trying isn't just physical sex, it's just trying every way to make me feel exist."
It's searching for proof.
Proof that I am here.
Proof that I matter.
Proof that I can still be felt, seen, touched, remembered.
Maybe every longing, every craving, every restless thought
is just another way of asking:
"Do I exist?"
Because beneath all my desires,
beneath all my fears,
beneath all my loneliness,
there is only one thing I truly want—
a small, undeniable sense of existence.
