What is a backup?

What am I storing?

Do I want that memory?

How do I erase someOne?

How do I erase the story?

Where I was wrong for you?

Somedays, I feel so tired of this repeat pattern that I do nothing, but observe and write about it. Making me ineffective this morning in almost every way, but One. Writing has me by my ghostly balls and as much as I’d like to pivot and find something better like yoga to do, I’m drawn to this wordy flame like we just started a game of tag and I am still ‘it’. I reach out to touch you, to make you ‘it’, but each time my fingers reach for you, it was a grasp in the dark and I missed you again. Finding again and again, I am the only one here.

There are people all around me. I can feel them, see them, and even touch them if I like, but I’m not drawn to touching them anymore. Come to think of ‘it’, I’m not drawn to touching anyone as of late. Several people have asked if I want to feel pleasure with them, but that euphoric high seems too expensive and addictive, and there is just too lofty a drop to keep touching someone else’s version of “love”.

With that love, it’s time to take a shower and begin test 20180206. Perhaps you got the jist by now anyway. I miss you, I love you and if you were literally here in presence of body and mind, this post of a few paragraphs would not be possible, so thanks for doing f***ing nothing.

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