At the rate I'm going, this much more than a "Quarter-life crisis." I barely move, and when I do it's rolling over. Still, I'm not quite as obedient as a dog. I say that mistakes are the best way to learn but lately I've been learning more than I want to in that sense. The smallest molehills are hardest to climb.
Could it be that because I've had so much given to me that I don't know how to start on my own? Or am I just afraid of growing up too fast so I either stay in one spot or look to the past and for something that's still here? And when I'm not too busy dwelling in the past or future, I can barely live here. If I'm not doing something, my head swells and I need a distraction.
Sometimes I claim that I have nothing to do, though I'm just looking for a distraction from a second distraction. I like reading but sometimes it just feels like a waste of time. I want to get to know people. I want to be where people are. I want to invest in someone's life. Reading helps me do that...
The walls don't talk to me anymore. The mosquitoes each my flesh and my brain cells don't mesh well. What happened? I know that I have a lot of potential but it's hard to keep going when everyone either says no or is speechless.
Does anyone have longer lasting tape? My mouth is fine, I don't need it for that. (Well, maybe you'll think differently.) I've got working ears but there seems to be little use for them lately. Keeping me balanced isn't even that important. The pain in my neck keep me locked in one of a few adjustable poses. Though I've moved down with the rain, I've gotten a few bloody noses.
That's not important though. What can anyone do? Written word. My soul exposes.
I go from poetry to all sorts of proses. Or the other way around.
Not seeing the problem that it poses.
Wake me up before I fall asleep again. Will my life begin again?