If there was a moment

Just one of clarity for the place I should go

For the thing I should be

I would call to the heavens; thank the lord for it’s presence

But it got lost in my messes

It eluded my senses

And to think I’m so concerned with the way I’m perceived

When I’m forgotten once I leave

There is nobody here to remember me

Have I lost out on something

Have I given up nothing?

I am young aren’t I?

I am young shouldn’t I?

Run away

Be a traveller

Or so they say

Yes that’s what I should be

I should be a traveller and make money

And have money work for me

And be beautiful and thin

And post pictures of my ice cream cones on Instagram

And exercise copiously and hang out with all of my friends all the time

And meditate and have a quiet mind

And love and be loved but never too much

Because I have to be independent I’m not supposed to need anyone

I’m not supposed to want to need

I’m not supposed to be basic

I’m not supposed to take life seriously but also make sound investments.

And I can’t really see the light at the end of the tunnel because my vision

Is obstructed

By some sort of message that’s making my eyes kind of dark

When I look away and everything is just spots and dim sparks

And there is some sort of sunlight but I can’t find it

I am stuck on the lives of others

I am stuck scrolling through all of the things nobody knew I did that day

because I forgot to put it on the Internet

Listening to music that people don’t like so I become irrelevant

Wondering where my place in the world lies while simultaneously trying to dig it in the dirt with a spoon

So have we lost ourselves

Have I lost myself?

Have I given

Have I taken

I guess the question becomes

Have I done enough of both because you see there is so much possibility

All the time

And I feel like crying out to everyone I meet please understand

I’m working on it

Please do not judge my current state

Please do not lament me the way that I

Look

Feel

Dress

Talk

I’m trying to become something.

I’m trying to become something.

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Fifty

A Short Conversation is a collection of stories, thoughts, and general musing. I like to write like I'm slamming a door; loudly, and with purpose.

27 Comment on “Flight On A String

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