I Walked Today...

I walked 11 miles today. Spent some time with the Sabbath listening to religious men talk about religious topics. I went to some woodland. I found memories of a campsite where I spent time with friends and time with lovers. The sense of solitude is like a curtain veiled over me. I come home and numb myself to the video library of YouTube, providing me fresh recommendations since I wiped its memory the other day. But all it offers me is hypothetical solutions or artifacts of the dysfunction that we have in this world. The binary. The broken to the fixed.

When I was in the woodland, there was time for me to not feel either. But memories of walks with lovers and friends seeped inward. The city knows my steps. I walked it for so long, in so many chapters, with so many others. When I came to this city, I was grateful for a community, proud that I wasn't just a man that had moved to a city. But everything I've done in the 15 years since I've been here were chapters, masks of someone who felt he had to give his best self to everybody else and now sits alone, the veiled curtain cradling him because he doesn't want to be seen anymore.

I fear writing. I fear people seeing my authentic self. In fact, I feel so empty, I don't think there is any authenticity there. When I don't know what to give, I don't know who I am.