choosing doubt as a philosophy is akin to choosing immobility as a means of transportation
--yann martel

Sunday, March 14, 2010

land wanted

Where is the ground? How long have I been up here? I am getting tired of floating around. I’ve been up here so long that my feet no longer remember the earth's touch. The air up here is thin; the visibility, poor. I would like to come down if I could only get my bearings. I know exactly where I want to go; yet, I haven’t the foggiest. I think I even know with whom--but even that situation is still floating. My hopes of reciprocation are so high I can no longer see them.

Where is the ground? How long will I stay up here? The lack of oxygen is taking its toll on me. I continue to seek for solid ground, but sometimes I feel as if I may never find it. What I wouldn’t give just to feel it under my feet, to know north and south again. I wonder when it will happen. Heaven knows that I’m trying, searching, praying.

Where is the ground?

c. johnson

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