This time, I have had less patience from parents.
Work ethic: not forced, learned.
The benefit will be seen
Or it will not.
Not for me.
No satisfaction.
Find my own damn path.
The hell of us all crumbles into dust.
Shut out voices, visions, mental violence
Focus.
Exist in-between distra(here)ctions.
Snow crunching under rubber, skin soles.
Vibrate up legs, spine.
Slush. Peace.
Bright massive sphere, green dots overlaying my sight: blind snow.
Alone, beautiful, nicer than home.
Walking, tromping, skipping, hopping.
Face dead with a smile, stuck on, never off.
People blur past, college, 20’s, young, hipster styles. Campus.
I am them. They are me. A crowd.
Sometimes, I suddenly realize existence.
I am myself, wow, insane, crazy.
I can do anything I want with myself.
So much opportunity, possibility, chance.
With every decision, another choice lost.
Still walking. Large puddle, bridge of snow.
Damn spring.
Lovely, beautiful, endearing, overflowing, bright, watery, slush cone, flavorful, brown, green, blue.
Still. Damn spring.
I feel better around people. Strangers.
Mutual anonymity. Equal possibility.
I’m always scared to be cliché.
Everything is, forget it.
Do what’s wanted, go after what craves me.
The ingredients won’t be original; the mix, the amounts
That be new.