Time still runs on just as I have known it to before. The experience seems slightly comforting in my pain. I don't have enough of this time to even do justice to an entry. And yet, oddly, filling time will and must become a kind of life and death struggle as everything here in this place now seems so full of my life's history. I must forget this, I guess. It is a past I have chosen to ignore before but now it has come to surface yet again and my carefully designed "better life" flutters as quickly away as it ever did... while what seem to be my accomplishments are... always mirages.
Being alone isn't usually a problem as time runs on. Trusting in humanity is far far worse. I'm damned if this trust isn't something we are born to do. At any given moment, from infancy onward, we are, in a word, subjugated to some other: to their goals, to their likes and dislikes, to their misunderstandings of our lives, our needs, our wants. We are subjugated by proximity and time. We trust in what they teach us about life even though we know, we honestly know, sometimes with amazing clarity, that they have often been absolutely wrong and may be just as wrong each and every time.
So accomplished they all seem in their steadfast views but I know they have been here...here where I am now... struggling. I know that they must know better. It is a lesson not hard to learn as these circumstances in some manner or particularity must be a commonality to all... at some time. Yet those steadfast views remain when the mirages take our senses away from the real.
Time has run on. And such a long space of time it has been since this familiar seclusion was so starkly real. Why did I leave it only to come back? What mirage had me so entangled as to make me forget that I would necessarily be back here, bringing with me learned experience that would be utterly useless?
I will have time to ponder before lost again.