I often think that the outside world is overwhelming
(Not mine) Not my inner world
It doesn't require anything from me
But it sometimes feels like it does.
—
When I drown myself into an ocean of words,
that is poetry
(Poetry will save us!)
And alcohol,
And love. Equally
I
feel.
—
I am wandering, almost lingering here
Close to be a nihilist. But I refuse
I'd rather be a taoist
Finding the so-called happiness in two things
Number 1: poetry
Number 2: mountains
—
No, they are NOT escapes
They are the only things that are real.
Oct 9, 2025
Oct 9, 2025 at 8:50 AM UTC
I often think that the outside world is overwhelming
(Not mine) Not my inner world
It doesn't require anything from me
But it sometimes feels like it does.
—
When I drown myself into an ocean of words,
that is poetry
(Poetry will save us!)
And alcohol,
And love. Equally
I
feel.
—
I am wandering, almost lingering here
Close to be a nihilist. But I refuse
I'd rather be a taoist
Finding the so-called happiness in two things
Number 1: poetry
Number 2: mountains
—
No, they are NOT escapes
They are the only things that are real.
09 October 2025
Request permission to use this poem