I lay down alone, crossed and confused. My mind is tormented with gripping questions of my distant future. Where will I end up? What will I do? Who will I become? Will anyone be with me? Who? These questions continuously occupy the deep recesses of my brain. They lay dormant most of the time, for I am too focused on the here and now. Occasionally, however, usually when I wish myself free from them most, these questions emerge at the forefront of my attention and demand to be answered. Perhaps it would not be so bothersome if the questions were not a catalyst for reconsideration of the woes and pleasures from my past and the dreams and aspirations for the future. Alas, they are.
I stay sane by the mere hope that I will, as my journey progresses, figure it all out, or at least decipher enough of it to remain content. What if this is not to pass? What if I am never happy with the choices I will eventually make? What if I make no real impact on the world whatsoever? I suppose I won't be a complete failure if I never build something that will last forever or create an artistic rendering that will influence generations to come.
The questions become more obscure as my mind races faster and faster. Thoughts and images randomly combine, meaning nothing comprehendible. The same mind that contemplated everything imaginable all at once continues to lull my body into a soothing location. Then, finally, I again remember childish naivety and bask in the glory of ignorance. The rejuvenation period has started again.
***Note: This is a short story, not really a poem.
