The muses have deserted me. The inspiration to write has escaped from within my grasp, the creative juices have ceased to flow and I!... find myself! - bereft, forsaken, alone and still - on a lonesome island that is surrounded on all sides by depths of unfathomable water that rises and ebbs with the light of the moon. From where for miles and miles there is nothing visible but a watery horizon that fuses with the damp and moist sky where stones and trees don't exist.
I look around and I see a piece of precipitous land thrusting out of the deep ocean which is hardly big to contain a small village lest a whole world that I was used to, that I remember, that somehow, somewhere still resonates within the catacombs of my soul.
I have come to love this silence, this solitude, this deep alienation from all and everything around me, where the world has literally disappeared for me, and I exist alone. There are leagues between me and others, there are silences immense as the universe that traverse and separate me from anybody else. This palace of quietude and silent winds, this enchanted fortress of lonesome company and happiness is my abode and my home!
Comments
Post a Comment