The world is a strange place. People ebb and flow from you life with an almost unnatural fluidity. I say unnatural only because it is unwanted, as really there is little else more natural in all of existence. You find your friends, you let them go, sometimes you find them again, others the world may not be so accommodating. In the place of nostalgic fun there is only a preoccupied silence, a ceaseless wandering from one point to another trying to piece back together just how I found comfort in solitude in the first place.