Not Lost

Quite a statement for me, for anyone.

To admit that one isn't adrift in the whirlwind of life, tumbling ever onward and having no direction. Ships lost in the mist, windswept...

But no longer. Men are only lost by choice, because they refuse to change. They refuse to alter the situations based on what suits their agenda best. Reality? Who needs it? Reality is an idea agreed upon by the masses, no more a central part of life than the invention of chairs. Convenient, but unnecessary nonetheless. What one can do with their own mind is of far greater consequence.

And so we're not lost. We're not lost because we're at home in the mists. We've made them our own, taken inventory of all that we have and we can move forward without doubt or hinderance.

Home is where the heart is, huh? Makes a lot of sense doesn't it?

I live in the mists, I live in my heart, in my head. I live in yours. And when the day comes that these things are taken from me I'll move along to a new home. Maybe the forests. I've always liked climbing trees.