I forget who I am sometimes.

Forget what is important.

Forget that I am not quite as alone in this world, as I sometimes feel.

I forget to write, and spend my days wandering town talking to people and for lack of a better term, living.

I start hobbies, like building boats in bottles… building tolerance within my being. 

I practice photography… snapping shots of people whose faces I will then stare at for hours on my computer.  I will even go so far as to imagine what events in their lives caused various wrinkles or scars.

It is then that the seed is planted.