nathanael.ink

AT SOME POINT I am there/here again. Wondering what it is I meant
at all to be saying with my life and my time and my words at all. It’s so
unusual now to feel myself saying something I think is very much wort
h saying, or very much worth the time that it will take to say it. I wanna
be in love, and I know that. But how could that really mean anything be
yond bizarre sentiment? What can it say for how I will get to work in th
e morning? Or what I will eat when I get back home without groceries f
or another night? How will it drive me to clean my room or to pay my b
ills or to care for anyone that is not me? I find so frequently I do not like
what people call me. Whatever it is, it’s never just right. I don’t want to b
e righteous    nor sinner     nor pussy or push-over   nor pompous, not se
lf-loathing, nor esteemed, nor belittled I don’t want to be some bereaved
soul nor do I want to be some jackass addicted to happiness AT SOME P
OINT there has to be an ending…………………………………………………………