Sometimes I see people who look like the might be like me. Lost in a world that is not of their creating, wandering through the land, finding personal meaning in the things and the people that they come across, seeking what cannot be sought.

Perhaps I am just transfering my own desires upon other people who would not be so inclined, or reading far too much upon a chance meeting, a glance, a way of walking. I rarely if ever actually talk to these people, being too locked into my own reality, and not wishing to impinge on their privacy. But still I watch, and wait, and hope.