To the long-forgotten ever-present,
I want to tell you that I'm leaving this behind me. That I'm moving on and moving up. That everything is going to be just alright.
But alas, time has shown that it isn't.
I can't get a handle on the mess in my mind or in my room or in the cabinet underneath the sink.
I can't get a handle on who I am or who I want to be.
I don't know who my friends are, who I can be happy around, who I can trust with the fact that I don't know if I like these people.
I don't know what to do with the words in my mind most days and so I bottle them up. Too dangerous for the people I sweat for. Too boring for my own eyes.
I could create a thousand dance metaphors but really it boils down to that fact that learning to dance has created the biggest culture gap in my life since moving away to live in the thick of another culture.
Starting every line with "I" further proves the inanity that I feel. I wish I had something better to tell you, something to say. But I've been living in a windowless cave for some years now and I've lost the view that made things tick.
Life has become unsustainable.
This has become unsustainable.
And yet, I keep coming back to it.