I've lost my faith. I wondered why I felt so strange for so long—why people have been asking me if I'm ok for months, even years. The candle inside me had burned out. The fire used to burn with excitement about music, art, people, love, and living life to the fullest.
For so long I've felt hollow—some strange dopplegänger of myself.
It's probably why I don't write much, or play concerts, or make art, or make buttons, or do big silly projects like I've known myself to do for so long.
Where has my faith gone? Where did I put it?
The best thing about losing something is the actual acknowledgment of the loss. Why? Because now that I know what's lost I have a pretty good idea of what I'm looking for.
I'm curious. I'm pretty good at finding things. More often than not, though, it seems that once I start looking the very thing I wanted has always seemed to find me.
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