Everything Just Is


How many songs will remind me?

How many pages will I write and erase?

What's it even matter if you're just standing still?

I don't know what to do with myself.

You can look at everything as a whole. IF you just pick yourself up, if you just pick up your feet and plop yourself over there. You can see everything that you hoped your life would be. You hope that it will be. You hold onto hope.

How many songs will remind me?

Being lost in my thoughts is like walking through puddles, each one bigger than the last. Each one a crater, each one spilling over -- sometimes simultaneously -- dripping and dribbling all over my hands, all over my life. It gets messy, it's a fucking mess.

Every person becomes a trial. Trial friend. Trial partner. You realize people don't have that much to offer. You realize that time depicts all things. You realize yourself in the mirror. You realize that you're seeing yourself for the first time again. You introduce yourself. You receive 1,000 hellos back.

How many pages will I write and erase?

Laying around and hanging onto memories. Here's one in this photo from last year. Here's another in this dresser you helped build. There's one in the warm breeze today. I saw more in my blueberry pancakes. I saw one on the wall earlier and there's one on the ceiling too. Splat, splat, splat. Nothing can release what's been burrowing inside of me. It's made a home where you used to be -- you're a disease with no cure.

What's it even matter if you're just standing still?

There's a monarch lingering with wisdom to tell. With it entails a message of no anxieties -- it says to cast your worries. Cast them where? Where shall I cast that isn't in arms reach? Where can I bury where they won't be found? Who will hold them without crushing them? Where can they be locked and tucked away?

But you don't know what to do about yourself. You can't seem to spit the words out. It's like nailing your tongue to a chalkboard and having to taste the dry slate for hours. It's like being strangled until your ears go numb, but living all the same. Running through a different door only to find the same building. Picking a different flower only to find the same smell.

It doesn't have any meaning, everything just is, and everything just will be.

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