Destiny stays undecided until decided
Birds are born and then they are taught to survive, then thrown to the wind for finding food and a mate, building a home and then dying
Trees are born from the mother tree and grown and stand, consistently forever until someone decides they need that tree gone or the tree just lives forever.
As people, a thousand purposes could not satisfy even the smallest of aspirations

been sprouting prose for years, and every once in a while I get sick of it.
so in layman's terms,
fricking everything *****, but it doesn't
think about everything, but not too much, you'll die.
think about the little things, deeply, immerse yourself, and **** depression, house arrest for your brain that only the sun will release you from.
and **** anxiety, that stuff is nervousness for your daily life,
just excitement buckling over into space
and leaving it up to the sky, the stars, or aligning yourself with the sand, and then multiply, you are strong in numbers

anywhere i have to,
but its funny, the how is not really an issue, there’s so many methods to get where i must go.
however,

what is unknown to me that i must find the nature of, that i do not know
which is obvious, because it is unknown (the definition being that that is not known.)

in simpler terms, to find out all the things, i must start somewhere.
starting happens to be an issue, because of the lack of security that comes with the unknown

every time i look up, it feels like looking down into an abyss. which is true, because stars are down and the universe is all around.
the universe even on the planet is so much bigger than i could even imagine, all the specifics are so large its hard to even imagine what spending all the of time i have on earth doing.

I throw my drugs away, when they find a cure for pain

that's actually really beautiful
beautiful
beautiful
how long do you think we can say that.
before we have to move?
elongated
heavy
burdensome*
burdensome be that of anything that comes up in daily life.
anything that punctures my will or my drive
in my floruit with nothing at the end
I'm writing because its the only thing I know how to do
hardly
**** lol

Dust on my finger
Don’t lick it, that would be grosser
Grosser than the dust and fingernails on the floor
Than smoking a cigarette on the balcony
The balcony
Unfinished projects live there
I try not to look at them when I’ve decided now isn’t the time
For the last 6 months
Now isn’t the time
Always time for something new though?
I’d say

a woman who wants is a woman who wins
and a woman who cries is a woman who feels
and a woman who tries is a woman who completes
she takes what she has and she fills herself up, she sees everything
yet she sees nothing at all.

you see, the world is so small until it isn’t,
and she can take it all in at once but for her own sake
she has to ration,
take steps and grow according to her body
to her soul and her mind
to all parts of her being, that each take special care in order to be chosen and tested, which they will
its gonna take some time, and a lots gonna change

as the sun slips below your shoulder, you can see more clearly than ever, and the sky is more beautiful than you’ve never seen.
and the clouds shield you from the glare, and the wind bites but guides in the decided direction.
where the wild things are going

in comfort there is static, not movement
develop, please

I live for the little things
But the larger they get the more I cower below what I thought I knew just to cry in the shadow of what really is
It’s ***** move
I feel small, but when I fall i crash and I burn and it feels like I’m on fire. The biggest blaze
It’s only in my head. Getting stuck in there is the scariest possible outcome. No harm right?
No one is going to tell me how to be, unlike the voice that makes me fill with guilt at all the things I’ve wasted and used up. Taken for granted.
Nothings wrong with me. I could chalk it up to sentient laziness and fear.
I’m through. I do what I want, and if I don’t the voice is going to make it happen.
I’m listening to her