Loss is an aspect of change. People grow leaving behind some past self.
I’m trying to write something profound about loss and how a human being grows apart from people or places but I can’t focus on structure and theme right now. It’s 1:33am on a Friday night and I’m torn in half. I’m alone and I feel like I’m on the most secluded part of the Earth and there’s no way to become apart of civilization. I can’t explain this to certain people because they will blame me for not making effort or just being a complete bitch but I know in my mind and heart that I can’t help it. I’m the wind and I’m blowing to something almost unknown. But there’s no other way I’d rather go. I’m growing and I can’t be stuck in one single pot where there is no water or light left for me. My surroundings are wilting and I’m longing for a change of scenery.