I still wonder at times how I got here. Day dreaming in the abyss of emotions that lay at my feet. As I recall, it started with a drive to a place called Purpose.
I can still remember this trip, it's etched permanently, like a song that brings back a fond memory. I departed to this place underneath stormy skies. They seemed to have been following me for quite a while. However I was still looking for my shadow hiding with the sun.
My willingness to pick up strangers along the way, cured my loneliness for brief moments. The road grew ever more barren. Collapsing into the sight of a sea of nothingness, everything the same.
It was on this stretch of impoverished dirt I felt my ride choking. It jumped, stumbled, and sank to the side of the road. I had run out of gas. I gathered what possessions I could manage, only to look up to see the sign. The only sign I've seen in hours, for miles. The sign read: Welcome to Lost.
I reached for the map, looking desperately for it's location. It was no where to be found. The place I was traveling to - Purpose - couldn't even be found. Living in this moment, this confused state, I circled around. Shockingly, I noticed there were vehicles everywhere, imitating cigarettes in a dirty ashtray that hadn't been emptied in years.
There have been many road trips, place, experiences notched on my belt. Those notches didn't prepare me for this place I landed.
There were no gas stations in sight. This depleted stretch of road found me sitting alongside the only thing I thought would get me where I wanted to go. As I gathered my thoughts, I realize I'm not the only one stuck here. I am one of many with the same problem. Moving in a nowhere direction, I began to try to focus to locate gas. To no avail, it was unreachable. Roaming this place of lost, I came across many neighborhoods. Like boroughs, each not the same. Passing by a section known as Addiction, there were no lights on. It seemed cold, lacking speech and warmth. That frightened me, seeing many suffering, shivering, reaching for gasps of air....I ran.
I ran with my eyes clinched shut. Finally, coming around a corner, I find myself in an area called Grief. Across the street was Patience. But still, no gas. Moving forward hitting many other places in this land of Lost, I pass many districts. Streets called Forgiveness, Connection, Heartbroken, Truth and Self. I felt like I'd been walking for weeks. I was tired, hungry, cold and just empty.
In the darkness I could still see a shelter. It was far away, so I trudged on to this saving grace. Upon arriving, I notice there was no door...just an open entry. Stepping in I saw many dark corners and what looked like people camping out. Above one of the doorways I noticed the word Love written on the wall.
It was unrecognizable. For the life of me, this place reminded me of nothing. Having never spent time in a place such as this, I had no choice....I couldn't move on, I needed rest. So I found an untaken dark corner and sat down. Falling asleep, I wondered if this place is real. How the fuck did I get here? What to do now? How to move forward?
It turns out, I sat in that corner for weeks. Other lost souls passed me by, offering food and water. Everything was the same. The food, day after day, the same...like over cooked Ramen. There was no color, no conversations, no sun, no gas. I was fucking stuck.
Having stayed stuck for what seemed like an eternity, I'd had enough. Attempting to stand it took a number of tries, but finally I stood up. Taking inventory of my journey, I realized what I was truly missing. This house of Love had taught me much. I'd come to a place of center, knowing I needed to visit this place of Lost. There was no way around Lost but to go straight through it. No one could speak for me. I had to walk, stumble, starve, freeze and hurt to see the path to Purpose before me. The path I imagined was always here. I just couldn't see it. There were too many other things in my line of sight that prevented me from finding a place called Purpose.
I'm still walking this highway to Purpose. No one or nothing can help me get there. It's just me, I drive myself. It's a lonely way to get to a destination, however it is my burden to carry. Sure, people come to light every now and again. They speak to me, we engage, speculate, dialogue, support...but we all have our own journey. I recall these people as I walk my path....all of us taking different roads....seeking to reach the same destination. A place called Purpose.
