“I once enjoyed a life, different from this, in opulence. In my younger years I would travel with friends and take pictures with them and do all the things that people do. My life was in the city with friends and family close by. It was a single cell. It was the life wrapped up nice and neat, predictable and beneficial. There was always some one to go out with for drinks or dinner. There was always a get-together at some one’s apartment or house. And sitting there with your closest friends, girlfriend in arms, and telling jokes, playing games, and eating dinner; those were special moments and you thought that no one else in the world could possibly be enjoying that same moment more than you were in that time and place.

“Those are all memories. And no one can take those from you. They become the most important part of your existence. But here’s the part that you don’t know. The part where the world around you that I now call ‘the good ole days’ all seems to fall away as if standing upon the edge of a precipice, looking down, wondering. The time arrives when you have to fake your excitement for others, hide the doubt in pictures of you with those closest to you; it’s when you start to drift away. Going out on the town becomes more of a rescue than a pleasure. It becomes this way because you start slipping.

“When your friends finally stop calling to do things and the loneliness starts to set in, the wilderness opens before your eyes. There is nothing there for you. Or so it would seem. Then like thunder rising from the dust a voice calls you to go. And finally, like me, you disappear.”

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