We live in multiple realities, but there is only one absolute truth, the inevitability of death.
Sometimes when I go to places to visit my friends who I once shared the same life with, I feel like I'm living anotheer person's life, a different reality from my own, which sometimes prompt me to say that once I've returned to Hamilton, I am back to reality. My reality, the reality in which I have to continue my struggles as if my travels were an escapism to another realm, almost unreal, as if the only established reality was that of the separate life I lived in Hamilton.
We're only finding our own way.
Some people just have their own ways, I just choose the one less travelled. Not that I'm used to solitude, but my heart just speaks another language, although what it wants is the same thing, solace.