#we are lost

[voelliglosgeloest]

I had the pear dream again

[stevepasztor]

[cryptid-corpse]

[ninfection]

[koboldorion]

[pollosky-in-blue]

...I love how helpful our chemistry textbook is

[pixelatedcacti]

i've actually been homeless for years. do you know how i know this. because i was looking at a woman today, watering the plants. she was doing it with such care and she had a watering can. everytime she picked it up, sprinkled the plants, and put it back on the shelf, i felt a fierce envy. must be nice, i thought, to always be put back on the same shelf.

you might mistake this. you might think, oh she wants a place. no. i'm lost inside my own self. i've been lost for years. i stepped off the path one day and never found my way back. when i speak of homelessness, i have noticed i unconsciously tap my chest because it feels hollow as if it's untethered. i keep trying to find the home of my body by decorating the skin of it. i feel this might help me find my way back; the making of a new path. i believe so much in the goodwill of my memories, as if they haven't ever aged poisonously and turned against me. as if by clinging to motifs with skin and memory, i'll be able to find some new meaning of home. i'm too scared to reach the end of this paragraph. i don't—

i saw a kid measure a cat the other day and then laugh with joy. i got excited; i spoke to her. why were you measuring your cat, i asked. if she knew the answer to this, then there would be some hope for me. she shrugged. she didn't know. her eyes were wide and joyful with innocent abashment and we both looked as the cat leapt upon a sunlit stool and closed its eyes. it was there, but i wasn't. i was the absence of space.

i've built a small shack in the forest where i'm lost, within which i am crouched. i've stuck pieces of myself on the walls. i keep trying to lock the door to keep something out. i don't know what i'm trying to keep out. its very windy here. i hope someone comes and gets me.