tricking paths III

Maybe I’ve spent too many lifetimes trying to imitate hollow idols and maybe I am doing it now, by definition, the imitations must be hollow also. Maybe I’ve worn the mask for so long that I can now no longer see or know what lies behind it. The spectres of things I never did or said now return to scratch and pull at the winding sheet rags of consciousness remaining. When you have never felt needed or wanted by anyone other than those you were born and share blood ties with you never learn to understand sentiment or belonging and it soon passes unnoticed like a stranger in the street even if that stranger says he knows you from somewhere. I have not known love, how would I recognise it, how can you expect me to, even if it were shown to me. The past is gone and swift as Achilles the future chases after it, my senses are dulled my reactions numb. I do not know what happens next.