I often wonder what my life would be like
if I was living it the way I really want to.
No, I’m not talking about college and degrees, and going for something because society expects me to. I have a job doing what I love, I have a degree that reflects my passions.
It’s the home life that concerns me.
Feelings are often inexplicable, like morning sunshine shining through the blinds forming distorted rays upon your wall. It’s there, but you can’t touch it. You can look, observe, form speculations, but you can’t define it. “Light on a wall” sure, but that doesn’t cut to the heart of it.
I’ve somehow boxed myself into a situation which renders me obligated, forming a daily structure against another’s. The more pressing issues are the clashing values, of conservation, locality, adventure, and silence. Turn that light off please, don’t keep my laptop plugged in for 12 hours, don’t buy that preservative-packed food, I’d rather not have that hormone-pumped beef, no thanks I’ll pass on the beer tonight. These are things that define me as I grow and mature, yet I can’t come to common ground in acknowledgement that yes, this is the way I want to live, not just a hoax.
I have so many opportunities, but my box renders my chances slim to none.
