I sit
Stare
Wonder of the things that aren't here but are somewhere else.
Beige ceilings feel small when you stare at them all the time.
There's a sky beyond the plaster-
A dark sky that's full of animals and stars and clouds and noise.
Yet here I am
With nothing but the white noise of a heater and a faint ringing in my ears.
I think of all the time I waste thinking.
I could learn a different language.
Being able to speak to someone in many different cultures and continents would be interesting.
I could practice guitar or piano, learn a new instrument, create new music.
I love the way music twists and spills from my fingers like an ethereal waterfall.
I could draw and create a masterpiece.
Acrylic flows through my veins and keeps my heart pumping.
Watercolor dyes my body and my hair,
Washing me over in a wave of bright color.
Chalk dusts my skin, leaving me with a blurred finish.
I could exercise.
It would surely boost my poor self image.
I constantly look in the mirror and see a hideous shell.
Mending relationships and talking would fantastic,
A splendid way to make good use of my time.
A way to use my present to correct my past and improve the future.
Studying would be a good thing to do, as well.
The great me knows that my grades sure do need it.
I cannot deliver disappointment to my parents.
Maybe I could work, earn some more money
More money makes mankind merrier;
So it appears, money makes man merry.
I'd be contributing to my society and be making use of my time.
OR...
or...
I could continue to stare at a blank canvas above me,
Smooth as silk,
And I can think of all the things I could be doing right now
Instead of actually doing them
Because America is a nation of dreamers,
Not doers.
