Glass Window


If only I could afford "the"life.
I'd have it!
Instead,
I'm left with choices of what is wanted and what is to be chosen.
The fragrance of it all brings my stomach to the most unpleasant place.
While, my mind
free.
What is that shit?
Why am I confined by what I am and what I own?
When what I am is all I have.
Happiness should arrive at that.
Railroad tracks and old dirt roads are congested with these absurd dispositions.
That is living life,
free now.
Isn't it?
Do you not feel the same?
We roam this world alone but together. We are each other.
Does "the" life fill your souls with
such or only do the bellies of well-kept choices bloat.
Succeeding the ego matters to whom?
A snickering woman in tattered clothing blurts the obvious.
"Go to hell!" She says. The world stops to observe her life. Yet, no one realizes they're there now.
Chosen?

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