Lost

Lost.

Everytime I've opened a window to start up a blog post for the past few weeks one word comes to mind.

Lost.

There's a notion, that wherever you might wake up and find yourself, dazed and confused, even in the middle of the night, I can't for the life of me understand how you could possibly consider yourself "lost."

Right? You wake up in the middle of the desert. It's hot. There's lots of sand. But you know where you are, you know? You wake up someplace surrounded by trees, maybe you're in the mountains, you think "Shit. I'm in the middle of the woods." but the very next thing you think is "Pick a direction, start walking, I'm bound to hit a road sooner or later."

And you'd be right.

Now, I'm not saying you'll necessarily survive. You could wake up in the middle of the Sahara with no water or food and maybe thousands of miles from the nearest caravan route...

But you'd at least know where you were.

You're never lost, is my point.

I guess.

One for a challenge, of course, I bent to the task of figuring out exactly where you'd have to be to not know where it was you be'd.

Way out in the solar system? You'd probably look around, notice you're stranded on a frozen rock, you can't tell which point of light is your home sun, and that gaudy Texas-shaped novelty brass belt buckle isn't weighing you down quite as much as you'd remembered, and guess you're at least close to the Kupier Belt.

How far out would you have to go to be totally lost?

I discount being lost in a dream, because you're right, you might totally feel lost, but that's just the feeling, not the place.

So what's next? Maybe an informed person can't ever be lost.

Which is maybe ok - but I'll keep thinking about it.

-t

"Lost" isn't a place you can get to in the United States, but according to the U.S. Census Bureau you can visit Lost River City, Iowa; Lost Lake Woods, Michgan; Lost City, Oklahoma; and a few others.