i don’t know what is wrong with me

i am tired

of trying

to figure it,

pin it,

know it,

touch it,

taste it,

be it —

i just want to fucking exercise it.

what type of stepford i am trying to be?

i wonder

(too much)


(p.s: horoscope for the day? “Are you complaining about how things are rather than taking charge of your life?” HAR-DE-HAR-HAR, UNIVERSE.)

This entry was published on April 3, 2013 at 10:32 am. It’s filed under anxiety, creative conversation, creativity, emotions and stuff, photography, poetry, words, writing and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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