swimming_in_circles kssfremen without way points splashing directionless, surviving long since numb to the cold, but vaguely aware limbs need thrashing to keep them alive. I have no physical point of reference, only a the vague history that forms a flat gray horizon line keeping up and down in their place. but offering no sense of progress or salvation. Out of instinct, or to prevent madness, I move forward. Without evidence, perspective, chart or compass I can only guess where I am headed, hoping my path leads somewhere. I try, buoyed by hope, to reach an end. She drifts past, perhaps also lost or just out for a swim? and we contemplate traveling together. which could be nice. it would add support, and company, an awkward, huddled warmth, and perhaps even a consensus as to the best course to follow. But, as things happen, the drifting apart arrives loss and disconnection overcoming bonds, embrace decaying into a uncomfortable overlap, then parallel courses veer away, the jostling and chop too difficult to overcome. Forward by default, but unsure of what gain will be allowed I feel the concentric circles, never repeating. Arriving at places only slightly different provides a dubious return for the effort. With perseverance, these specks loom on the horizon, and I am drawn toward them dreaming of rest and solid ground, to dry myself and become warm perhaps to build shelter, and live in peace. Each time, paradise taunts from atop insurmountable cliffs, or is plagued by a screaming volcano, or haunted by inhabitants long dead. Always, after a brief refuge, I am forced back out to sea. Now I am floating, and I don't scan the horizon. I watch the sky, hoping to have a few more days of calm, before the cold waves crash over me. 021017 ... kss eh, I'm a gloomy type, and sometimes it's a bother. I wonder if it's better that I am getting these things out of my head, or if I should issue a moratorium on moody poetry, and insist on only happy thoughts? well, there's nothing wrong with me that lunch won't fix. 021017 ... whitechocolatewalrus . 040102 ... doar . 050726 what's it to you? who go blather from