A ROAD LESS TRAVELLED

when resisting the current, it's hardest to remember where you're headed and why. i know i'll regret it, but sometimes i just want to put my head down and have a meal without thinking.

but writing for papers is hard while a splitting trench waits to be addressed. work as anaesthesia is failing, it's competing for attention. what do you adopt, what do you abandon, no time to think. function fragmented until retreat arrives. does the tearing hurt? accompany it.

i wish there was time to be foolish.

feels like identity should be whole by now. the blows come and you accept some, fight some. nobody does it with me unless they're just as lost. and reaching out to the hardened sure ones only means lying to yourself. makes you wonder what to do, where to go, where to belong.

no comrades. is the middle road that less travelled?