When did life become this? A Saturday spent sorting out thoughts of endless imagination. Oh the possibilities, both good and bad. The what-ifs. The should haves. The why mes.
When did life beome this? An opportunity to run from responsibility. To hug the pillow until it is smothered with my salty tears. With no provisions, no one to tell me to, "Shape up kid!" The sobs. The moans. The whines.
When did life become this? An involuntary act of domestication amidst a heap of mess. Total clutter both internally and externally. Cleaning up my act, but dirtying my soul. The memories. The moments. The times.
When did life beome this? A peek through the window at a world of unmarked territory. No trespassing in areas that have already been discovered. A path winding aimlessly in a forest of findings. The journey. The trip. The voyage.
When did life become...lifeless?