Famine

Its effects are more frequent now, this...

famine.

Not in any way that can be physically verified, but the hunger still persists. An inexplicable hunger...

A hunger that leaves me drained, wishing for some kind of fulfillment. There's no reason for it. I've tried looking for one, I've tried...

But the only satisfaction I find, comes from isolation, from indulging in the very thing that continues this drought.

Me.

That's what it comes down to. Me. My issue, my resolution. Perpetuated by a constant need to let others make my decisions for me, hoping that something will come of it.

But I need to make way for me.

There's something to be said for knowing who you are, and I know that this isn't me. As much as I try to remember it, shamelessly revel in what I thought would re-inspire it, nothing happens.

There are only the smoke and mirrors of a roadie-assisted light show, phantasms wisping in and out of beams of light no thicker than wire...

I see them for a moment, but by the time I've reached out to hold one, I touch only humid memories, tantalizing in their clarity...

They knew me.

Without having to try, they knew me, even before I did. It surprised me when they cared. But they did.

I see them, whispers of them, in the faces of people I know.

But for some reason...

I'm still... looking.