.

an aimlessness is starting to take hold. the drifting, at first casual, has now become overriding. even the word drifting doesn't seem appropriate because it at least somewhat implies destination, either to or from. this is a nameless, formless isolation that is as whimsical as any breeze. never settling, only pausing for brief intervals to regroup itself. it's enveloping. leaving only quiet languish in its wake.

no amount of reflection makes this palatable.