We pass slowly
from one moment to the next
from one thought into another
a dream into reality
this year has been a blur
like all years are.
too many late nights, unfinished books,
Wondering about what is to come
the day after.
when i'm twenty-six
where will i be?
what will i've seen?
who have i become?
these are questions i can not find the answers to
questions i must learn to live with,
breathe in and exhale their often poisonous forming gas.
i question everything, and i think we were made to
to question the why.
where we find our answers is not always a when,
but rather a who.
or a what.
or a what.
i have often been held back by some inward force within my nature.
i walk oh so carefully next to a tripwire
-- dreams and adventures
sometimes i have the courage to step over.
sometimes i blindly pursue them,
making a royal mess of everything.
and sometimes, more often i regretfully must say,
don't go near that trip wire at all.
that invisible thread that separates all i've ever been
and all i've ever wanted to be.
it's funny that people think those are the same things.
they are not.
like Jupiter with its many circulating moons,
we are constantly circulating different ideas,
bouncing into different orbits we think we might belong.
if we're lucky we will stay there for awhile,
enjoying it's new sights, sounds, tastes.
but gravity, oh that darn gravity, will slowly pull me back to me.
and i start suffocating.
choking on my dreams.
unable to process the photo of reality into a clear image.
it's murky, dark, grey.
there are smudges from mistakes,
sections cut out from the frame of memories i wish to forget.
actions deemed forgotten.
yet here we stay, don't we.
always percolating on that which we can not change.
they say the english language is formatted in the
"past, present, future".
everyone knows though that is not the case.
we live our lives rotating between the past we can no longer touch and the future we can not clearly see.
what is to be done with you and me?