Tuesday, July 04, 2006

Unwilling to Swim

To get to me, you have to cross the sea of madness, and pass the lonely depths of my crowded solitude. Old forms, new forms, it doesn't make a difference. I am still here alone. As the hours of my isolation pack on top of each other, I lose track of everything. New thoughts are just as vulnerable as old ones. When I fall, I fall pretty damn hard. A long time ago, I told my best friend at the time that the reason I'm always there for my friends to lean on is because when it's my turn to lean, I can lean back hard. I don't know why I bothered. I'm alone again, and my problems are many, for our name is Legion. I've gone beyond wondering where the hell my herd of pigs is; there's no relenting. I don't suspect I'll hear anything from my friends; it's time for me to lean back. They all know how to reach me, but most are just simply unwilling to swim. My deep water could be an oil-slicked puddle in a parking lot: most still wouldn't wade in to help me.

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