Adrift

A rambling study of sonder

I move through the quiet alleyways like a ghost. Some days I feel like I’m just a shell, or that I’m fading away. Other days I feel too potent, too real, too noticeable and wish I could just melt into the background and avoid all the stares.

I smile and laugh with my friends, but, do they see me? Do they notice that past my beautifully painted exterior, my mask, my façade I’m an ocean of turmoil? Complex, and often misunderstood. So much more than I seem? Filled with hopes, dreams, and equal parts despair?

Who am I, to think that no one is as complex as I? Each person I interact with has depths and heights I may never know. Secret passions and struggles they may never share with me.

Return

The Least Technical Poem I’ve Ever Written.

I went back to the place we fell in love

And roamed the crowed streets alone

The sights

The smells

I thought it might feel empty without you

Lonely

But it was so alive

I felt so alive

 

I went back to the place we fell in love

It hasn’t changed much but we have

It’s ended

It’s done

I worried I feel closer to you there

Longing

But I’ve never felt further away

And it was liberating

 

I went back to the place we fell in love

But I realized

It was the place I loved all along

Hello There

I’M NOT A QUITER!

Dear Reader,

If you exist, I’m honoured that you’re here! Welcome to what will be an interesting, and maybe sad attempt at a blog. One think I can promise about it is inconsistency. Inconsistency with the posts and the content. I enjoy writing, but I am not an aspiring writer. If you like what I post, great! If no one ever even sees any of the posts that’s okay too.

I’m currently working on two pieces that I’ll post when they’re finished. I’m also drinking some instant coffee, that I instantly regretted that I made. Why? Well, last time I drank this particular brand of instant I was in an airport lounge in Thailand and it came with a cockroach……the powerful sensory memory makes me recall the feeling of the roach in my mouth, which I quickly spat out onto a spoon, while remaining calm and composed. The memory makes me want to puke. Why don’t I just dump the nasty instant coffee? BECAUSE I’M NOT A QUITER.

Anyway, reader, you fantastic mythical beast. I’ll make a contact page so you can email me if you ever have any questions or things you’d like me to write about.

~Misty