Arrival of Fjols

I dreamt of a place much like this once. Of a place which was wild, which was rural, which was mine. I had the illusion that such a place existed and that I could exist in such a place. When I arrived, I thought for a moment that this was it, this was here. But I was someone from nowhere, I was someone created by a lie. Too late I would realize that the someplace I was looking for was maybe the home I had left. Now I am neither from there nor here, perhaps somewhere in between. Just lingering to see if a wave will someday push me ashore or drag me back into a lonely sea of fools. 

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