I remember that one time when I thought I might have had something that felt a little or a lot like love for a stranger. It's that sort of funny that you laugh with but your eyebrows are farrowed and your eyes squint into a circle instead of an oval...but your mouth is laughing...really your mouth is the only part laughing. Because truth is, maybe that thing didn't really exist or maybe it did. It's like trying to figure out the meaning of life, or how big the universe it... you can have ideas but you don't really know. Like love, you don't really know what love feels like or really is really... You know what not having what you want feels like...and that may be a bit like the idea of "heart break", but your heart isn't really breaking, you're just being a spoiled brat or reliving some sort of trauma you experienced when you were 1.5 years old or something like that. Or...or maybe it is love or something like that. But either way, it doesn't matter, because it isn't present. It's not now, so it doesn't exist. But sometimes I can't help going backwards and remembering what that potential four letter word smelled like, sounded like, and how I could feel it's presence behind me walking towards me. I think sometimes too much going on makes you not know what's going on. Like, you build up all of this stuff for you to do and "be a part of" then realize, hopefully, that you aren't a part of anything because you are too busy trying to be a part of something. But if your self-reliance gets the better of you, if you are so stubborn and set on wanting to do it yourself, because you think that makes you independent, then yes, well yes, you will die alone. Because you were too set on building that house, brick by brick..with your own hand and hand.
"Cloud Like Mind...Cloud Like Mind....Cloudlikemind"