Standing in the doorway, I am more alone than ever. The peculiarity of my solitude doesn't phase me; the rush of the crowd brushes against my cheek. I see past the stares and the complexity of conversations whispering in my ear. I hear the breeze and I feel footsteps on the floor. My heart pounds faintly in my chest, drawing my eyes to my thoughts. I strain for the simplicity and satisfaction that tears can bring, only to find my efforts are without amends. My aperture is low, and my focus is single. Then the shutter is released; the lens is cracked. Vibrations wake me and the world comes alive. Colors appear, and the faces come clear at once. A vibrant blur, I search for familiarity in the chaos. Noise tramples my thoughts and kills my mind-wanders. The discordant sounds of voices echo in and out of my ears, a constant stream of long verbs and sharp consonants. My feet force themselves out of paralysis; I trip over my toes and shove myself against the mass. Slowly, steadily, I make progress. Nobody can tell whether it is progress or a fall; but I see improvement and only improvement. The reason? Only my instincts can tell. Perhaps I will find him, perhaps I will stumble upon my old friend. Above the crowd, he towers above the rest and calls me to his unknown, yet faintly familiar embrace. He is confidence and he is comfort. My fight against them has been fought and my struggle with my own conflicts has been realized. I allow my rigid, determined figure to relax and become limp in his arms. I welcome him, and he accepts the invitation without a particle of reluctance. My shattered everything tumbles into order and perfection, and I forget previous disarray. The images of materialism dissolve and I find beauty in myself and in others without envy. He takes me carefully by the hand and leads me along, nudging me back into a river of senses. I remember, and my productivity increases. The change I have discovered is inside of me, and my course cannot be stopped.
