Loneliness like a radioactive desert
I don't even know how to start here... but I gotta pick somewhere, so....
Picture a desert. I'm not talking about one with scenic dunes and some mountains in the distance and an oasis or two out there somewhere; picture bare stone, rough and jagged, with small random dunes of pebbles or sand. There aren't any cacti, no oases anywhere, and it doesn't have mountains on the edge, 'cause it just keeps going.
The sun beats down by day, but night lasts a lot longer, and it's a very cold, dry night, so dry you're sure you can feel your body drying up and withering away. The whole place is infected with veins of uranium ore, the neutrons from it eating into your flesh, violating you clear down to your DNA.
No birds fly over, no insects fly or drift by: you're alone, in a place that makes "desolate" seem like somewhere to go for vacation. The only hints of life are contrails from aircraft you never see.
Make that personal, apply it to your spirit. If it could be written down, that's my address right now, the place I find my soul.
I'm not up to putting down details right now. I gave some in my first post here, a couple of weeks ago or more.
Yeah, I'm hurting. Pals here to communicate with would be kool, but I need friends up close enough to smell.
My physical location, where my soul stubbornly clings to my body, is in northwest Oregon. Anyone here?