On a different note that my usual posts….here is an attempt at poetry. Oh oh!
Hunger gnawing, chewing my soul, wanting to be part of ‘things’ – ‘people’ – always things. Things externalized, intellectualized, imagined, never experienced. Afraid of experience. Experience brings pain, failure, expulsion, darkness, sadness, self alone. Wanting, needing to be there, but not be with or a part of. To be part of something, some group, means what? Unknown, fear, lack of control. Giving up a part of me; being able to give up part of myself in order to become part of the group – how do they do this? How do they convince themselves its ok to let go and fall in? I feel I would drown or not not even that I would be bored and disappointed. Is reality ever as real as what we imagine? How could it ever be? Perfect except for the loneliness…the feeling of hunger, to be there.