Maybe

if i
stay up all night every night
you'll sleep better

if i
sleep more all day every day
there'll be fewer mistakes

if i
speak less
you'll forget

if i
showed you everything
there'd be something else


there's only one way to find out
i guess

Music

all these sounds that belong in
different places, times
my head bursting at the seams
from all these memories

All your words that need saying sound like nothing more than redundant repetition void of meaning.

[my] Life is a series of mediocrely unhealthy relationships.

What is the point if one does not embrace their arbitrary decisions?

[And] the irony of hating something so similar to yourself.

I am but

another imperfect system
incomplete in its functions
crippled by needs, wants, desires
blinded by longing
mourning, yearning
rusting up without proper care
growing old; becoming
obsolete

taking so long
waiting, hesitating
not knowing

so much of
not enough

like
superglue
holding miniature models together
commands
binding entities into sets

until
someone drops it
the system crashes

Rocking the balance

Probably should have worked harder all those times people told me to. Not that hard work will pay off in the end, but having done something differently i may have ended up somewhere else. someone else. sometimes it's so tempting to think there are no alternatives and knowing what's around every corner is comforting in a way. History repeating itself; all you have to do is find the recurring pattern[s] and everything becomes a routine you [can] repeat without really being there. i wouldn't be able to tell you where i go, if you asked. i don't wonder most of the time; i wait. most of life is spent waiting. but i will wait.

Life is in many ways what i am learning now. changes all the time, whimsical in its directions; making plans is useless, but the roads are long and they go on for years ahead - consequences of the paths you take are no more concealed than they ever were. but i am always looking for the first appealing exit off this highway, and i'm not as hesitant to take it as i used to be. maybe i say things to convince myself more than anybody else, and as long as there is a reason - any i can find at all - i don't know how much there is lying, how much it matters, how much i can bring myself to understand why people are so upset so much of the time. how upset i am sometimes by the trivial. but most of all, why, and how that does not come across and how much i don't bother with clarifications.

I want to tear everything down to begin.
knowing how it works does not matter;
knowing that it does does.