Will words ever explain this perpetual breakdown
A cyclic pattern of relentless wondering
How is it once an earlier bird
Suddenly a night owl
Pessimism tangentially transitioned
To something a little less like rhetoric
This spiraling lifestyle suddenly a little less sickening

Does this seem acceptable

To be and not to be
And it seems this mind lately
Is gathering its ideals from some new unfathomable philosophy
Still no excuse for such obscurity in ones life

Surely