Catatonia

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Nothing makes sense in the world of human relationships, I accept that. It hurts, even if I am not always immediately aware of the pain. As a result, I have explored various meditative practices. None of them have been able to raise me up from the gloom of regret and self-doubt. Sometimes, I drink. The lights of the city grow dim in the haze of cheap whiskey and smog. Shadows circulate like eddies in a river around my reclining body. I go to dark places. But none so perfect in its darkness as Catatonia.

Catatonia, how my heart yearns for you, lost land of dreams and reveries! Catatonia, that place where my mind wandered over bare hills and shadowed valleys, through cities decadent and gilded with the detritus of lost civilizations. Long did I haunt your abandoned abbeys and ancient walls. Oft did I wave the black flag from your city gates or nestle into the darkest corners of your public houses. Oh Catatonia, what have you given me in exchange for the love I gave you, the devotion unto death, my very soul. You have abandoned me, forced me into exile, sent forever beyond your lichen-encrusted walls to wander alone in the shining glass-and-metal cities and the hum-drum roadways of an ordinary world.

What have I done to you that I should deserve this fate? Was my transgression so great that I should be banished? Catatonia, where have you gone? What road was it I took away from you? Why does it not lead back to you? Catatonia, I know you can hear me? I speak your languages.