All the lies I let myself believe, will they someday haunt me, be whispered in my sleep? Tell me true, for there is there is value in honesty. I realize that I shoot myself in the foot with the same regularity as I eat, and I’m not foolish enough to believe that that’s mostly for the cause of enabling others, though it is occasionally.
I’m more selfish than I want to be; sometimes it’s hard to believe there is yet goodness in me. Once I had convinced myself I was artsy, but now I know that I’m just angsty… the drama queen I always strove not to be. Are we ever who we want, in reality?
Fame is fleeting, as is beauty. I’ve been lucky enough not to be granted either in excess. Nor do I have great knowledge, though I once thought I liked philosophy Philosophists’ agonizing over-analyzing killed that theory. Yet, even in these words I seek to be more known. In everything I am the antithesis of all I hoped to be. I show, in all things, too much of my humanity, which I’m told is tacky…but I always admired vulnerability.
There are moments I wish I could freeze, but really nothing is all that we remember it to be. In conclusion, I’ll refrain from over-speculation on where I see myself, let alone our nation in any span of time: a month, a year… Though, through ash colored glasses, I see myself not much closer to my destination, yet closer to death. Make what you will of that prediction. Kind salutations to you on your trek, whose path crossed with mine on this occasion. Fare thee well.