There is something inherently pleasant, about sitting in a coffeehaus, in a corner somewhere, as the lunch crowd bustles around, as I remain invisible. Solitude is an amazing thing, that locks me into a book, jumping from space to space in seconds of time. Not having to explain anything to anyone, my thoughts in my head revolving around like a slowly stewed soup on the stove. The occassional new ingredient that stirs things up, before spreading out and making the mixture homogenous again.

I have the urge to go to the mountains, maybe I’ll do that Tuesday. Dragging my closest kindred with me, so that we can stand across the TriRiver’s damn, yelling profanities and slanders to the rocks on the other side, before retreating to the bed in the car, to stare at the bright sun streaming through and contemplating the meaning of life. It’s nice, having someone I don’t have to verbally communicate with, being able to just sit in shared solitude, vibrating off each other and knowing exactly what is sitting in that other head. I think that’s why I seek out the kindred that I have, reassurance that I’m not the only one who thinks how I do. There’s that shockwave, that resonates when I meet one, often found to be that feeling that I’ve known someone forever. No real introductions, it just is, and just exists in that time and place. Separation bears no issue, because the next meeting just results in taking off from the point left, as if no time has passed between.

And in that, I am brought back to one of my soulmates. I love you Big Cat, I never would have fully explored this part of me, if it hadn’t been for you. You came into my life when I needed you, and that, I will never forget.

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