i don't know where i have been nor how long i have been gone. like the lifting of the fog every passing day is becoming a bit clearer but the end to the haze only forces the realization that i have been gone for far too long. somewhere between the onset of the final stage of the six thousand mile feud and my mothers seventeenth suicide attempt my mind began to wander, and before i ever realized it, it was gone. on a good day my thoughts are separated by a thousand miles of ocean. they are random and incoherent from one moment to the next. most of my thoughts are lost, they grow old and die before my mind has even realized that they were born at all. but this was something of a different nature. it was not my usual haze of lost and incoherent thoughts, it was almost an absence of thought all together.
i never even realized it was gone, whatever part of me it was that left. maybe i just was not paying attention. it was not until a teacher and perchance friend pointed out a noticeable "change in tone and demeanor (in person & in text)" that i noticed that anything was amiss. its strange how sometimes the people who know you the least notice the most, and can affect the biggest changes.
i am still at a loss to describe exactly what it was that i was missing, or how it came to be. for lack of a better descriptor, i would have to say it was my creativity that was gone, but that would not be accurate. it was more than that. it was my ingenuity, cleverness, originality, inspiration, and art. it was my genius that was missing for so long. every person has their own genius within them, whatever the skill set that makes it it up, and without it we are nothing. without it we are crippled and condemned to misery without ever realizing it.
it was not until tonight that i realized how much i had missed it. 2 months has passed since i have put any serious words to paper, taken a truly decent photograph, or gained any useful knowledge. if three thing defined who i am these would be them, and without them i have been someone else. but tonight standing outside in the cool night air, just as mysteriously as it slipped away it returned. Esto perpetua. . .
Brian W. Scott