Impure

Originally written and posted on Saturday 17 January 2009.

Do not seek the eyes of strangers
Zero reflection, absolution
My soul weak
My mind tired
My body not
It is worth more
No truth to be found here
There is no love
No understanding
No caring
No joy
Nothing
But escapism
Impure
Unkind

Another poem I did not mean to write to begin with. I enjoy writing in this minimal style at the moment; and I like the end results. What's it about? Well, I learned something real good last night whilst in a kind of downward spiral. During such times I sometimes search for escapism from my blues by doing the above. Such behavior is not kind to me, does not resolve any of my issues and is quite shameful. Last night I stopped myself from doing it, I learned.
What that says about the process and about me when I am happy and carefree is....? I don't know. Maybe then it is just about having some fun, for the right reasons?
Anyway the poem, as the post suggests, is entitled, "Impure". Perhaps, the answers I seek to my own questions have already been written by my own hand?