Do you need to escape from the world? I know how that feeling is. It's like walking on the edge of a knife. You do not find the meaning of falling to one side or the other. You no longer care which game the balance is in. You only know that your heart is in the middle.
And you almost prefer to keep wandering through the sharpest of life. Assuming the wounds. Making you strong in your scars. You don't want anyone to cure them. You want to cover them with salt and let them suppurate. Let pain be the sign of what is alive. The bread crumbs that take you to the passion of a new stirrup. He was searching for that lost verse. Keeping you waiting, but intensely alive. Rumbling in your head those words of Walt Whitman that ask you what will be that verse that manages to define you. And once you find it, once you have it looking at you in front of you, you don't care on which side to fall or which path to choose. You do not mind that all the weight of its edge is leaning against the center of your heart. Just waiting for the next cut to be deep enough to find you once again, completely linked to existence.