I spend so much time wrapped up in thoughts of what things are like in the real world, that I forget that I am in it; a living, breathing string woven into the intricate fabric of today. I have a reason & a purpose, and each breath I take is a step towards finding them. Every moment of my life is a part of my purpose. I'd like to believe that me finding it is a part of it. But if it isn't, what have I wasted?
i wrote this back in february, it's accompanied by my next poem (04/02)