indifferent.

Something tells me I'm not supposed to be like the rest
with a 9 to 5 job. coffee sipper slack wearin note typin gal.
I don't really fit well in closed spaces. Attatched to a desk with my eyes glued on the screen.
And I don't really feel like I want to help every day people.
Struggling to get out of debt, struggling with their marriages, student loans & scheduling between their kids soccer practice's and play dates.

I don't care about you.

What do you have to offer me?

You're illiterate. Naive. Literally, boring.



My politics are artisits who speak their minds on the walls of their decrepid towns
My religion is the music people actually create with their heart
My education is from trials and struggles and a fight to survive sort of freedom

Wisdom has more importance than knowledge

Love has more importance than economy

And in the end of it all, who will save us

It won't be the President. The churches. Nor your money.

But it will be my Faith. My Freedom. And the life I've built upon love.

anxiety.

This uncomfortable feeling is starting to seep in.
Where I feel completly alone in a world full of sin.
I can't catch my breath and I'm feeling discomfort.

I know what I'm doing is right & O.K.

But I can't shake this feeling that no one else feels the same.
I need some validation from something much greater.
Then just my own heart or some words put on paper.

I'll close my eyes and just remember how to breathe.

Telling myself I'm doing well & that's what matters most to me.

I need to stop comparing and I need to stop staring

at what I could be doing if I hadn't fucked up and stopped caring.

headache.

My head. It's full of the most intoxicating things.
I have memories that tear at my insides.
I have moments that make my heart beat faster.
I have ideas that are trying to break away from the ties that hold them inside.
I bring my knees to my chest and hold my head in my hands.
Rock back and fourth and play the tape from beginning to end.

I can't quite remember what's real and what's not.
It's hard to recall emotions when distraught.

Maybe one day I can put the pen to paper to help me get through to help me remember

Exactly what went wrong exactly what I felt

And exactly who it was that made my heart melt.