Lost

I lay the tip of my metaphorical pencil on my metaphorical piece of paper. I know all the lines and all the curves I want to draw, but I can’t seem to bring order to the chaos they have stirred inside my head. Something is amiss and it has been so for a while now, for much longer than these phases usually tend to last. It worries me that I am completely lost.

Metaphorically.

lost

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