I know
what it's like to win
at life
at family at
money at SMARTS and
it didn't feel
I didn't feel--

better to fail and
feel the same and
know there's a
chance
I couldwouldshould be happier in
a better
scenario

Identifying this domain, naming it life,
Thinking am I the main, just hiding in disguise,
Exploring the world gaining in size,
Singing endless stories to my side,
Working for the day when answer will become one,

Myriad possibilities are there to come,
Questioning is this the one or someone else has to hum,

The dreams becoming reality,
when life will be calling and acceptance will come.
All will fathom one and one will fathom all.
A journey will welcome a journey in rise.
One will start understanding the blunder,
And never will the veracity of a dream be in plunder,
A proliferating uncovering will arise,
And Sapiens will ask Is this world suffice?

I’m scared of telling that special someone in my life
That I’ll be with them till I die
How can you go up to somone and say
“I’ll be with you every day”
When you can’t even see
The possibilities?
How can you promise them forever
When you know there’s always someone better?

While soaking the February sun in my cold bones, I think of possibilities.

I hear the sparrows chirp on my house's rooftop, but I also worry about the ominous fumes rising from a factory nearby.

This is also an analogy for my life.

I question if my imagination runs a bit too wild or if I trust my ideas too less?

I am unable to feel completely happy, but I cannot sink into sadness just yet.

I wonder what to choose, hope or despair?  

I am hanging somewhere in the middle,
in the web of possibilities, both good and bad.
‎
I am searching for answers to questions that nobody can answer for me.

When you look, what is it that you see? I don't think you see what I do, yet you might try and tell me that it is so, but the way you read the signs is so blind to the splendor, the extravagance of what is there. I find no evidence you see what I see. Soon my luminous world grows dark as the shadows of yours seek to ground what should be in flight, make cynical of all potential light. Why must the world be cast into black and white when there is so much color?
You think it safe to bind yourself within the safety of your rules,
afraid to venture out,
step outside the here and now,
outside this room, this building, this city, this country.
Within this world erase the boundaries, erase the lines,
and realize what lives sure enough dies. That's what makes it so beautiful, aporia In attoraxic duress, we are merely consciousness, outside the blood and the flesh, outside the vessel. For the universe needed something, so now, I observe it, someone had to take notice. Thus, it was given to us to take it and shape it, make it the wonderful place in which we think we can only imagine. Imagine how if we tried to see the potential, the possibilities, released the hate, the anger, the cynicism. We limit ourselves but I don't want to feel the constraints anymore, I'm ready to be, I'm ready to exist, to flourish, to find beauty in simplicity, to imagine, to create, to wonder, to let go of the urge to know and to embrace the infinite possibilities.