I knew then as I know now,
seaweed washed ashore can't ever go back.
An uprooted entity set adrift in the vast ocean...
I feel like seaweed.
I too uprooted from the comfort of my personal madness,
and unceremoniously set adrift in the unknown realm of sanity.
With, as it is with seaweed,
no chance, no possibility,
no hope, no prayer,
of ever going back to where I came from.
We are both going to wash ashore on some beach and become something new.
After living and growing submerged in the aquatic world of liquid and salt,
the surface must be a frightening place,
as is sanity a scary thought after centuries of existing between the cracks of madness.
May 23, 1990 (c) PR