I woke up early one morning. Though I tried, I couldn't stay in bed. Perhaps there is a moment that everyone experiences where they feel they've found true joy; if it is even a moment. It is only in having experienced that moment that I felt some burning kind of empty now, like a hole inside my head. "The man who doesn't seek love will not find it" my father always said. So I left and drove to Colorado, leaving my aching soul behind. I climbed some windswept mountains and stood upon the Great Divide but the empty followed. So I lived a little while in Reno, getting what I wanted and wanting everything, and degrading myself to the lowest quality of life until I found myself sleeping on the street with alley cats for company. So I turned my eyes to the ocean and waded out into the sea. I swam out past the breakers and allowed the current to carry me. When I looked back the land had disappeared but still I did not feel free. 

And so I am, like a half-drowned rat, carrying my burning empty with me. But there is a joy in the empty, and joy in remembering that one moment.

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