Because I still don't feel like there's direction I like to imagine all the things I'd be able to do if given an arm and a leg and a pen and the time to close my eyes, breathe, sit and simmer in the ideas that don't leave me, don't leave me, 

driven from the noise like a knife, these ephemeral networks branch off in circles that bring me there and back, there and where, I wonder, knowing how easy it is to scream and how hard it is to pick apart pieces of a hundred icon puzzle, twisted like faces, faces like names, both of which are too impossible to remember that I am left so long awake

Where, I ask, can I find the pictures to mirror your soul, that intangible monument to the apathy, the insurrection, the distance I swear could save the world, my world, something I could hardly bring myself to idealize given more than just this moment, more than just this lifetime, shared between no one like the stories we've agreed to let die, die, 

but i want to try, or so ill say to myself, i want to keep trying, keep trying, lying long enough to weaponize the words to squash more than my own, ego, o

Satisfied

 I like to imagine that one day, hopefully soon, there'll be the time to invest into something great. Something awesome in every sense of the word. 

Until then, it's as if my time is frozen solid. Frozen slow. Not without pain of regret, lament and all the other feelings that mix together to swell into a rather unfortunate mess of "I should be working," or "I should be doing better." But it's okay to wait, or so I'll say, because a year means nothing. 

And there's mistakes to be made and made again. And there's stories to be read and told again. And there's lives to be lived and understood, or thought to be understood, because it can be so hard to take a crack at what's authentic, real.

If there was one thing I wish I could be, I wish I could be unwilling to be satisfied. If there was one thing I need most, it would be reason. If there was one thing I wish I could understand, it would be the distance between conviction and disbelief, because when all else fails, what else will take me home?

It might be time to stop living too many lives.