Skeleton Dancing in the Wind

I'm selling my hang-ups and travelling again, to who knows where, even I don't want to know. I need to fuck off to somewhere way below the radar. I had this spark inside of me that I lost somewhere along the way, and somehow it slipped away from me. Lucid is a dramatis personae reflecting a jumbled maelstrom that is incomprehensible even to myself, it's a skeleton of a man rattling in the wind, and yet there is still beauty in that, is there not?

Anyways, I'm leaving it behind for now, until another day. I have one simple request for those who have felt a little spark in interacting with me: Watch a film called " The Thin Red Line ". It says everything I could say here in a thousand years, it is the language of my being. I don't know of any person, book, or film which can describe my feelings about this world more clearly. Goodbye : )