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1763
the left hand path

Recently, in waking life I've been learning a bit more on the concept of existentialism and absurdism, as I've been reading "Endgame" by Samuel Beckett for British Lit... and I've been feeling a bit lonely and depressed. Mostly because I don't have people I can relate to in physical reality. And for awhile, this wasn't a negative thing. For indeed this path that I tread is both a personal and solitary one. It's something you are, not something you are born into ..and most importantly it's something you must discover alone.

Even still, I dream of the day I will encounter these like-minded individuals once more.

Last night I dreamed I was with these people (several of them I know via the interwebz). We were close.. almost like a family except it was different.. for in families there is no conscious choice of who your kin is to be. It just occurs. But this was different. Everyone present in the depths of the woods was there by choice. And there was such a strong connection I felt with each of them.. it was as though we'd live many lives together before and those lives were far more interesting and accepting of our kind.

I don't know where we come from and perhaps that doesn't matter. All that mattered is that somewhere beyond the comforts of my mind we were able to find each other. Oh, it's funny how this desire grows and manifests itself into dreams when I let my guard down and drift off to slumber...

I miss them.

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