Lost At Sea

Sharing some words from a favorite graphic novel:

"I have alot on my mind, and not alot to do, so it's going to come out, all of it, and then, then, it may begin to make a sort of sense...I don't know what I'm writing, what I'm doing. I'm not even writing, I'm only thinking these words, stray thoughts scribbling out to you. I don't know what this is. I don't now. It's a life story. My life story, by me, ...The important parts, anyway.

"...I guess the important parts are what make up the life story and the rest is just the rest. The rest is just stuff that happens to everyone, like you were born. And it's not really an important or interesting part of the life story unless it was important and interesting unto itself, like if you were born on a raft on the Amazon or during an eclipse. But excuse my digressing because I do hae a life story and it may not be important or interesting but it begins with a best friend adn it ended thsi morning. Sort of. Well it ends with now, technivally, or it doesn't really end at all but it doesn't go past now, yet, at least....Anyway, I was born."

"I'm just confused. Everything's confusing. Everything beautiful is far away, or maybe everything far away is beautiful It's like how the grass is greener on the other side. Grass just looks nicer from the other side, you know? Grass where you're standing looks like dirt with green hair...

"Every time you look up at the stars it's like opening a door. You could be anyone, anywhere. You could be yourself at any moment in your life. You open that door and you realize you're the same person under the same stars. Camping out in the backyard with your best friend, eleven years old. Sixteen, driving alone, stopping at the edge of the city, looking up at the same stars. Walking a wooded path, kissing in the moonlight, look up and you're eleven again. Chasing cats in a tiny town, you're eleven again. You're in a rowboat. You're staring out the back of a car. Out here where the world begins and ends, it's like nothing ever stops happening....

"...I love the tops of trees, and I love the sound of Jeff Tweedy's voice, and I love the hiss of the wheels on the pavement behind it all going a million miles an hour in the deep dark lovely middle of the night...I am leaning back and running with it and staring at the stars and I'm eleven, I'm sixteen, I'm eighteen, I'm a newborn. I'm everyone everwhere with you without you unbound set free in limbo. Lost at sea."