i question whether or not i have ever been whole... when i was a babe, was i one with myself?
i lay awake at night with a warm body next to me... not quite fitting it as it seems i should; am i the one with eroded edges or are they?
i wear myself down, crumbling and crashing into the ocean of my own thoughts... sinking into the dark and bottomless depths.
are the broken pieces of me scattered throughout this sphere of life?
i question the very theory of pangea and wonder if it applies to me? was i ever "all there"? is there more to me then just this seemingly broken piece? i feel detached from myself... but is it just in my head... nothing more then a theory.
all of the carbon dating in the world can't assure me anything... you can't date something that predates your sciences. you can't convince me of anything; for i am the lost and sinking city of atlantis and my thoughts are swallowing me whole.
...and should i make it off this island of man...
i have no doubts that i will wonder if i was the stuff of fantasy and the lore drunken sailors. i will look back at my journals and diaries which will read like lorem ipsum; seemingly gibberish, but within them will narrate the extremes of good and evil that was me.
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