I can’t find it. I’ve tried looking for it. Got frustrated. Threw things around. Had a fit. Still never found it. Then I become grumpy for the rest of the day. That’s the typical story of me trying to found something.
But I can’t find myself. I’ve tried peering in the empty boxes and containers, tried looking in the cracks and gaps, tried looking under and over, dusted cobwebs and dust bunnies on things. But I still can’t find me.
I’m not sure who I am anymore. I used to know – or at least I thought I did but now I’m not sure. Where am I? And where did I go? Who am I?
Everything is so confusing. Yet nothing is moving. I guess I don’t have to be afraid of unbecoming me if nothing is moving anyway.
I’ve tried looking everywhere around me – inside, outside but I can’t find myself.
Maybe I don’t belong here. Or maybe I was never here. Whatever the case, I’m not quite sure where myself is….or where it is going.