untitled

i'm scared.
worried i won't make it
or i won't get far.
breathing is the best thing i've done
for my tired, lonesome heart.
if i could drop what i was doing now
and leave it all, believe me, i would.
ditching school to travel, i don't think i should.
there's so much stress when it's dull
and much preparation involved to figure it out.
i want to run to freedom and avoid the crowd
this life isn't as fun as i thought it'd be
taking orders, following schedules, and losing sleep
is the only way i will really be free.
why isn't there another way?
why can't we be born with riches
and discover our passions by running?
and running.
and running.
'til there is no end and no more riches.
but we will be fully happy where we're at.
we'll all die poor.
we can all say we lived.
we found ourselves.
no more taking orders
following schedules
losing sleep...
but it isn't like that.
it never will be.
and that's what scares me.

the purpose

time does not exist.
there is no end - no beginning
we live in each moment, not thinking of what's next.
it doesn't matter.
when we're breathing, smiling, and in the company
of those doing the same, we forget.
forget everything.
all the hard work we've done.
all the friends we've gained and lost.
all the emotions rushing in and out our bloodstream.
we inhale.
we raise our weapons.
we forgive.
we carry on.
the existence of life is not meaningful
if we forget.
every person, smell, taste, touch...
where does it go? does it just vanish?
has time taken it away?
a second is enough to start over.
making memories, enjoying life.
only to have it disappear.