Finding September Again

July 10, 2017

I think that we all long for a sense of belonging. We’re homesick for a place that never existed; a time that we’ve carefully manufactured in our dreams. We spend a lifetime building things up…the lonely poets shouting at the sky. Is our search for acceptance doomed to fail? Is it inevitable that eventually we all settle for lesser versions of happiness? Could it be that a little bit of something, truly is better than nothing at all? I’ve built up my fair share of people. Saw them for more than what they were. Not because I was blind to the facts, but more so, because I was open to the possibility. Perhaps I saw more in them then they could see in themselves. Now, that would be satisfying if it were indeed reality. Unfortunately, I fear it is just pleasant fiction. The truth is I build them up because I need to. I need to believe that there is someone out there truly inspiring. And in the face of disappointment it is easier to conjure inspiration from the lackluster rather than face the facts. We bend and compromise and lose heart staring into the face of humanity. Lost children, running, standing still, corrupting ourselves in an effort to find that which we’ve never had. A lifetime of finding September again…

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