Friday, September 02, 2016


It was a long time before they found my body. I stood there, waiting. Not that I felt compelled to stay but I was curious. How long would it take? I remembered that woman they only found a few years later. What was it? Three? And I wondered at the time, how someone could disappear from the face of this earth like that, in an apartment, no less, and no one know.

But then, here I was waiting...for someone to find me and bury me. Or at least cremate me.

I left my body to roam. I went in search of people I knew, or thought I knew. I couldn't really remember. It all seemed so long since anyone was really close to me.

Close to me.

Can a spirit weep?

Can it feel sadness?

Can it feel regret?

Because that was all that boiled up in me at this moment.

Regret. Searching for something I had lost.

Searching but not finding.

The faces of the people I thought I knew, receding.

I didn't know where to look for them. And it was a long time since they had cared about me. Or I had cared about them. A long time since we had cared about each other.

This disposable life. Where every relationship eventually becomes teflon.

I remember watching movies and when two people who cared about each other hugged (not lovers; lovers didn't hug, they kissed) I always teared up because I thought, ah, that feeling, I want that feeling, why is it I can't have that feeling?

The faces receded further. A faint memory.


Who was I again?

Where was my body?

I forgot.

I can't find it.

Who was I looking for? Urgency in my centre. Sadness. Regret. And loss.

A growing sense of loss.

Who was I again?

Had I always been wandering these streets searching for something?


I can't remember.

I can't remember.

I'm lost.

I'll just keep wandering.