one place

every situation in life that defies the logic we have at the time creates a small hole in our souls.

most people change their logic that those holes can be patched, at least for a while.

some people change the situations to fit the logic.

but some holes are bigger than the patches we conjure would care to fit, so we go on with life accumulating ever so slightly larger voids that become gaping, unsightly, even downright ugly.

and most people fill these with things. religion. science. music. art. history. hedonism. even other people.

what most people don't realise is that these holes created don't just mean that our souls are disappearing. no, not really. they're whisked away. maybe they go into another place, where all souls join into a massive cloud of pseudo-souls. maybe it's less romantic, maybe they just lie somewhere, waiting for an uncoming day of judgement. maybe a deity picks them up for some use or another. who knows? but those slivers of souls are there somewhere.

for me? i think i would like to know what i would do had i not lost those pieces of me. but so much has been lost in so little time, there is no recordkeeping - not for me, or for you, or for anyone for that matter.

maybe it is best that i keep on writing. that if i could write my way to destinations, there's only one place to go.