A long (short) string of words
Here it goes, as confusing and broken as it may be. Everything I am worth. Everything I am. All the words just flowing out into the page just wondering what it is that I am going to finish with. I've got bad news for you; this doesn't end well. It never does.
Here's to you: I find myself questioning the very Foundation of what it means to exist. I do not know, unfortunately, when this all began. How, even. Just that I woke up and questioned, and that feeling, it never felt wrong. But silent acceptance? Yes. It always has. Always will. I guess you might think that's the point of it all. The true understanding. But for me, that's wrong. As wrong as everything and anything is right. What we have here is self doubt; we all have worries and woes about not being good enough. But, then, who determines what is good enough? What is right? Wrong? Where lies our truth and moral compass? So we sit at the crossroads, just watching the cars pass by as the sun paints the sky different shades of beautiful, cool wet grass dampening our jeans as we lay sprawled out in subjective defiance. We are who we are in this moment.
I may never exist in the next.