I align myself with the notion I have it figured out .
But surreptitiously imagine traveling to the ends of the earth, until my mind is plastered with its beauty .
"But that's not a job " they say , "you can do that when you have money ."
It all comes down to the money , pieces of refined wood and words .
I have to get this morphised tree things to actually see those trees .
For how long ........
4 years
maybe 5 .........
15 ?
It displeases me, that maybe living through my worst fears could lead me to those trees .
Being confined into a little room and typing away on a ancient computer .
The smell of expired coffee and over polished leather shoes settling on my nose .
"But what if I want to be creative then ?"
"Surely you can't mean being an artist " they scold
"No.....maybe architecture or graphics design ."
They nod , "yes those seem to get you the money then ."
But architecture means making buildings.
I can't , that would require me to reprogram my hand to stop the doodles of swirly lines and unfinished thoughts .
And to draw lines of accurate straightness and concrete ideas .
Maybe I just don't want to grow up .
Yet I'm told I seem mature , held together .( the irony )
But that's because the system wants someone docile .
I just don't want to be observed,
so I squish myself into normal. Just to be grey in the sea of discolored faces .
I don't want to be picked out and ridiculed for my indecisiveness .
But that will change when I have passed their tests . To move out of their schools .
Get the piercings I wanted and feel alive when I plunge into death contained situations
But I'm not sure though . I think about the future .
Repeating thoughts to people of what I want to do .
And each time I become less and less sure .
And more and more certain I will be made grayer , more uncertain . Then be the fraternal twin of black , white and have a bright light, coaxing me into the future .
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 2:35 AM UTC
I align myself with the notion I have it figured out .
But surreptitiously imagine traveling to the ends of the earth, until my mind is plastered with its beauty .
"But that's not a job " they say , "you can do that when you have money ."
It all comes down to the money , pieces of refined wood and words .
I have to get this morphised tree things to actually see those trees .
For how long ........
4 years
maybe 5 .........
15 ?
It displeases me, that maybe living through my worst fears could lead me to those trees .
Being confined into a little room and typing away on a ancient computer .
The smell of expired coffee and over polished leather shoes settling on my nose .
"But what if I want to be creative then ?"
"Surely you can't mean being an artist " they scold
"No.....maybe architecture or graphics design ."
They nod , "yes those seem to get you the money then ."
But architecture means making buildings.
I can't , that would require me to reprogram my hand to stop the doodles of swirly lines and unfinished thoughts .
And to draw lines of accurate straightness and concrete ideas .
Maybe I just don't want to grow up .
Yet I'm told I seem mature , held together .( the irony )
But that's because the system wants someone docile .
I just don't want to be observed,
so I squish myself into normal. Just to be grey in the sea of discolored faces .
I don't want to be picked out and ridiculed for my indecisiveness .
But that will change when I have passed their tests . To move out of their schools .
Get the piercings I wanted and feel alive when I plunge into death contained situations
But I'm not sure though . I think about the future .
Repeating thoughts to people of what I want to do .
And each time I become less and less sure .
And more and more certain I will be made grayer , more uncertain . Then be the fraternal twin of black , white and have a bright light, coaxing me into the future .
