Lost

but not in any way that could have a positive connotation:

Not lost in some exotic desert or rain forest.

Nor lost inside the pages of an atlas.

Not even lost in thoughts of travels that were and of travels that will be.

Certainly not lost for words, as words are the Wild Traveler’s craft.

Neither lost in the misty forest roads of the Alps or any other mountainous formation that is misty.

And definitely not lost in the latest episodes of Lost.

No.

The Wild Traveler has lost himself somewhere between the mundane and the trivial obligations of everyday life.

Something he had never any intention of doing. Something he had promised it would never happen. Something he thought he was immune to.

Looking at Everyday Life laughing at his face right now, the Wild Traveler cannot help but feel a bit humiliated.

And a bit sad.