September 9, 2009
By Anonymous

It's different each time but the same--
Like the forever rain that plagues our windows,
Relentlessly beating in time to the day,
Though one day it drizzles and one day it pours--
Each day is a nightmare. Swallow your pride, stand up tall--
I'm here, but not here. My mind is somewhere else.
I pay attention, throw myself away
To what? It's what I do each day.
Half-awake, monotonous and yet--
Who knows who I am? I am far away, and you--
You are part of my existence on Earth.
The real part of me is somewhere else,
In the cloudy blurry torus-shaped flatland of my mind,
Though I appear to listen, and put my effort in.
I'm not here.
I'm far away.
Distant from you,
A point on the horizon,
Drifting away from reality,
To where there's something real--to me.

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