A swiss army knife in an unwelcomingΒ God toolbox is how I would describe myself Versatile but cheap. Not profound at anyone thing. Illusionism of quantity that is mistaken for quality Many books started but never finished A vast resume both musical and medical Many half played sheet music Many diplomas full of emptiness If started but never finished adventures could be considered hoarding I would be the sickest on earth. The addiction of rebirth, restarting, and creation swallow me whole Me the addict of wanting to live many lifetimes I am the backspace bar of life The blank sheet of paper on an empty desk resting beside a newly sharpened pencil This, the description of the feeling I so desperately crave- absolutism
My shakey addict hands hunger for words like; blank, clean, fresh
These fuel my unhealthy obsession for second chances