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Not Exactly What I Set Out To Write

Thank you, Missy, for reminding me why I do this.

I originally started this post as a song. If you follow my stuff, you know how those tend to turn out. I write them when I'm manic, lending them an intense, often haunting vibe. I deleted it, because it made me feel ashamed. It was one of those things I didn't want to share.

Those types of writings...I don't tend to keep.

You see, I don't finish a piece if it's not something I'm willing to share. And, you have to understand, I've already shared a lot. These unwritten words are a fertile womb, providing the agonizing burden of giving birth to demons. Dramatic, right?

Well, check this out.

I was in the bathroom at work today when the floor opened up and swallowed me whole. I fell for 9 and a half hours and I'm not speaking in metaphors. On the outside, I'm on auto-pilot and leaking from the eyes. Inside, however, I'm whaling my arms around in a desperate search for solid ground. I'm screaming for something, but it's all coming out in tongues. What the fuck am I dieing for?

What is it that I need?

I can almost see it, but I'm not wearing my glasses so it's all distorted and out of focus. I only slept for three hours this morning and I'm running on fumes.

Suddenly, it starts to become clearer. My answer, it's right in front of me and I begin to smile.

With every breath I take, I get closer. My epiphany is just within my grasp.

Oh my god...I can't believe I didn't see it before. This whole time my honest to god revelation was

It was

Fuck

I lost it.

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