Pick a Pocket Full of Sorrow

I am a part of a group that promotes unity.

That promotes inclusivity.

That promotes openness.

You know, all the buzzwords.

And yet, despite all of the warm fuzzies I should be feeling, I feel further away than I ever did before, a sailor lost at sea.

I have no idea where I’m going. I have no idea when I’ll return. I pick up one foot and hurl it forward, not taking the time to catch my breath before doing the same with the other one. Onward and beyond, forever marching and never being fulfilled.