I'm twenty-one, I don't really know what I'm doing.
I have direction, I'm pointed the way I want my life to go.
I know life has its twists and turns, that worries me.
The future is beautiful in black,
So that's what it typically wears.
I don't know what it holds, no one does.
I want to know in all seriousness where all the giant squids are.
Because some days that's how I feel.
I'm a big-*** squid in a very shallow pond.
Most days however, I feel like a cat
If I were an actual cat; what color would I be?
Not that it matters.
I bet I'd be a short-haired cat.
Would my cat eat squid?
How can I break my addiction to anime, caffiene, nicotine, and jumping to conclusions?
What would nine year old me do if he found out that in twelve years his best friend would be the only person he hates?
What do you, the reader, think I am?
Am I man?
Or
Am I beast?
What does she see in me?
Why does it feel like I'm always looking into a mirror after a long hot shower?
You know;
When the glass is covered with condensation,
Why am I so afraid to go back to school?
What do I even want to do?
How can I change the people around me?
How do I keep those I hold dear smiling?
I swear I'm happy; trust that I would never lie about that.
I'm just so lost.
Dr. Pepper tastes so good but it reminds me of my old poetry.
Who knows what will happen in ten years, two days, three hours, fifteen minutes and twenty-six seconds?
More over, who gives a ****?
Perhaps this is just my quarter life crisis.