All of the plans I had written in my head for myself are now no longer options.
Big beautiful blueprints, but I no longer have any of the right materials to build. The materials I do have left... I have no idea what to build with.
I am in limbo.
Every morning while I brush my teeth it feels like I spend an eternity trying to sketch out in my head:
1. who I am
2. who I want to be
and
3. where I'm going.
But most nights, when I crawl in bed and stare out the window I find myself scratching at it all with a big pink rubber eraser;
"This is all I am, this is all there is".
These plans never even last a day.
Jul 17, 2021
Jul 17, 2021 at 2:21 PM UTC
All of the plans I had written in my head for myself are now no longer options.
Big beautiful blueprints, but I no longer have any of the right materials to build. The materials I do have left... I have no idea what to build with.
I am in limbo.
Every morning while I brush my teeth it feels like I spend an eternity trying to sketch out in my head:
1. who I am
2. who I want to be
and
3. where I'm going.
But most nights, when I crawl in bed and stare out the window I find myself scratching at it all with a big pink rubber eraser;
"This is all I am, this is all there is".
These plans never even last a day.
Request permission to use this poem