ADDENDUM, PROLOGUE

And when the dust finally settled 
And we all settled into our addled peculiarities, I realized 
I had finished early. 
I took a moment for myself and went out to the lonely place to sit and think 
And cry a little. What were those emotions? All was now behind me. 
Where did all the pride go? 
Where even had it come from? 

Some of what's felt seems, 
After the fact, 
To have been prescribed. Fit the scene before you into templates laid out by whomever. 
Maybe you. 
Maybe you.
And the sun goes down 
And the addling recommences. We are joined after all. 
And the trauma rises 
And the trauma falls. 
Crooked smile beneath the not-so-tired eyes before the body drags itself downtown. 
But where is the mind? Addled you leave and addled 
You come back. Was it fun or just a clarity attack? 
Nonetheless, loneliness again--peculiar, that. 

And when we all finally cast anchor for the brief leave, 
I hope they find what I've found--that the shore life lacks something. 
That the normalcy lacks something. 
That paradise was great but self-conscious. 
That time plays tricks on your body. 
That rising between dawn and dusk and falling between dusk and dawn entails an 
Inevitable guilt infusion.

That short period on the dinghy between the 
S.S.C.L.S. and the Coast of Utopia was all it took, really. 
And the discipline and the routine, 
And the suspicious habits erode. 
Walking tall through the village of the landlubbers is tough and possibly irrelevant. 
Waddling, then, becomes the new norm. 
What, then? 
Is the grass just greener or does the problem lie with me? 

Bigger problems gave way to 
Smaller problems. Inflated, the 
Smaller problems cause 
Bigger problems. Acknowledging the 
Smaller problems draws attention to the character flaws that 
Who was supposed to fix these character flaws? 
Were there really some inherent characteristics that I lacked? 
Where do I find them? 
Why do I not challenge you? 
How do I not challenge you? 
Shouldn't that line of questioning be challenging in and of itself? 
Or tiring, at least? 

The moment when 
I was finally permitted to hang the shingle and strike forth was the moment 
I missed the nail-foraging. It was the moment 
I wished I might have engaged a bit more in nail-forging. 
Oh my God. 
Where to laze? 
Whose fault is this? 
How long can I stay on the platform? 
Does everybody else feel this way? 
How can we justify something so undefined? And time warps 
Again.

Come September, come, 
When I'll engage in something just as inspiring as my previous fantasy. 
Come tomorrow, come, 
When I'll be put to some sort of dedicated use, when I'll be valued for more than my. 
Come the evening, come, 
When I'll return to my regularly scheduled mental scrimmages. 
Come anyone, come, 
When we'll pull ourselves from these imagined lines 
And ask ourselves to look into each other's eyes 
And hold on. 
And let go. 
And flail about. 
And hold on. 

Look out.