Becoming an adult is the realization
That you'll lose all your free time to
Punching clocks and filling the gas tank
45 bucks at the station
40 on gas and
5 on a pack of cigarettes
To ease the agony that my life is
Controlled by cycles
Cycles of depression
Of the latest mobile game
Of craving knowledge
Of giving up on everything after a few weeks
Of dreeding on how I'm losing
Time to do things I enjoy
Yet I spent afternoons putting things off.
But what am I to do?
I've put almost four thousand miles
On my car
Yet I still find myself driving the main road
Of my home town
Still going to the same places
Dealing with the ******* drivers
Wanting to be someplace new

I want to write passion,
but lack the knowledge of love
I want to write greatness,
but lack the knowledge of glory
I want to erase these thoughts,
but lack the skill of forgetting
I want to move on,
But lack the skill of letting go

I apologize

January 1st, 2013
Achy body and tired eyes
Resolutions thrown away after after week one
Hope lost after week two
Return of normal daily cycle week three
Week four, blended cloudy mesh
of the rest of the year
I still sleep in the middle of my bed
To avoid turning over
And noticing an empty spot
Where you are not

Is this acceptance for my regrets
Or a surrender to my thoughts

I find comfort in numbers
256 and 65536
Start at two and keep multiplying by two
They'll come up eventually

Sometimes alone I sit
reaching for the TI-89
and begin multiplying

Finding 30!
Then diving down number by number

The highest exponent of 400 until
my calculator renders it infinite

It's hard to explain
the satisfaction of reaching
one hundred million
then dividing by five then two
until I am back at
the base of five or two

two and five
those are numbers I like the most

what is it about night time
the absence of light
the darkness of the new day
the internal wheel temporarily
taking over for the external one in the sky

I exist only because several series of numbers say I do

Second thoughts in aisles of consumer shelves
What to get
Who needs this many things

Cold to the bone
And no flame to warm
and ward the cold weather

Fog and darkened mornings
I want everyday like this