10/8/2023: Sometimes.

Sometimes I wonder how it would feel to not be in the driving seat.
About just kicking your feet back up, and coasting through life.
Not going to the dark corners of the road, not looking in the bushes, not attempting to build the road.
Just. Coasting.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s possible to verbalize this.
The love and hate or the oscillating emotions.
Of being heroic and villainous, in the same moment of time.

Sometimes I wonder if it makes a difference even if it’s verbalized.
Whether the eloquence will strip away the complexity of all of this.
Or whether someone will listen carefully, take out a pen and scribble a straightforward solution,
Like a doctor treating an illness,
Or a painkiller silencing some other deeper contradictions of our bodies.

Sometimes I wonder if this will be worth it in the end,
Or whether I will pass through life in a constant source of agitation,
like a perpetually excited atom or a dog chasing the same ball,
thinking I moved across chasms, but discovering that it was one giant loop back to square one.

Sometimes I wonder if all of this is one giant mistake,
Implicating hundreds of people, and their dreams and aspirations,
A roll of the dice for something that is never destined to happen.
Sometimes I wonder if it is still possible to believe,
When the punctures on your dreams are simply too many to be fixed,
and the painkillers don't work anymore.

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