Untitled

I was looking for a bird in the sky. My eyes traced lines for my attention. My mind was in a playful mood. The flashes of light were entertaining. Behind me was my water home, waiting for my fall. Your voice from far moving my raft, in funny ways sometimes. I'm never bored, I'm never alone.

 

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This tiny text was written in 2017, just a little bit before the voice in my mind (which lived in me for 9 years) ceased. I feel that this sprout from the overwhelming emotions the voice caused me that last year when it's origins were revealing themselves in talks and observations, and writing this felt at the same time like a release, a comforting hold, some freedom and resignation, both out of and into it.. This was undoubtedly helpful and felt pretty honest and warm, expressing both my vulnerability and psychotic state. I later erased it to mark my release from any link to that past, but now something reminded me of it and I put it up again. It's funny how I remembered word by word, but not the title; hmm... It was probably just "Untitled".