Late

As I sit here looking at this screen
At the images of me and what I could be...
Thinking, maybe lost in what I should be
Or just lost...wondering how easy it would be to...
Try to figure out how the hell I reached white noise
From the reverb I once lived in...hmmm
Good question, and somewhere there's a lesson so I dig deeper,
Try to rescue these helpless ideas from the raging streams of thought,
That run rampant like children at play,
Unchaperoned...with no school on what should be a school day.
What I was is a glare in the life I have,
And what I have has no compare to what I've forfeited.
So for now I take things day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute,
Waiting for it all to make sense...but the feeling never returns.
Sometimes I wondered if it were ever really there.
I am so consumed in the preparation to execute life that it's hardly carried out.
I mean look at my track record,
I'm so scared that any woman might be the one,
That I find ways to enable them a path of which to run...
I'm so fuckin' dumb!
Trapped in the maze of my own insecurity
That's shaped like a figure eight with two foot walls.
But my depth perception is so damn off,
That I'm even scared to attempt to scale them.
My existance is so sad...
I refuse to take chances so I become a daredevil,
With a computer, PDA, pencil, pen, and a pad.
I'm losing myself....slipping through chasms of sanity
Like pennies through the small holes in the pockets of genes...I mean jeans.
I'm slowly but surely convincing the most important woman in my life,
That the only son she has left will not provide her with grandchildren...
And why...because she sees no future beyond me..
And how could she...it's not like I do.
Try not to think of this as a depressed memoir,
I'm just compressing my thoughts into a few lines...
Trying to find my own way to cope with the fact my only hope...
Comes from my art, my job, and the fact that for whatever reason..
I was put here for a purpose.
And everything I've experienced to this point was a part of some plan.
So just maybe the almighty creator and surveyor of everything that is,
That which we can explain and that which we cannot...
Could possibly be a head case too.
Maybe he second guessed a lot of the things he allowed us to be able to do..
Maybe he's thinking twice or three times about allowing another form of life to elevate
And be dominant, cause....eh....we're kinda fucking up right now.
If he created us in his own image was it just a physical representation or are querks
Hereditary.
But hey...who really gives a fuck!
More or less anyone reading has a 87.6% chance of not really believing in anything!
So my simple inquiries are just like my insecurities...
Words that are on a page and really mean nothing to anyone else but myself.
NO!! I am not a narcissist!
I'm neither that or a pesimist!
I'm just through traveling and allowing life to blow past me and just see the colors.
There are flowers and rainbows and blue skies,
And somewhere in the midst of it all something is dying....and that...is life.
Death.
The only real vindication of any action.
The concrete to every abstraction we like to portray as living.
I embrace growing older and wiser,
Even the fact that in the path that we move in as a people
They may very well not go hand in hand...
But I also realize that it all comes to an end....
So after 26 years of just living, I finally figured out that it's a waste to just live...
We have to do...something....anything to make a mark that it was not in vain...
So in that respect....I guess I'm late.