i live my days between two worlds. two, no, many more. navigating my way person by person by moment by emotion, never stopping or slowing. keeping an eye out for a port that looks like home, because i would like to get there, somehow.
in one of these worlds i find myself pulled toward a new horizon and an entirely new set of physical and emotional impulses, and once again i've strapped myself in to an external situation that bars me from pursuing my horizon without stepping, mashing on the toes of those i love. i won't believe it's my fault, but it's slowly becoming clearer to me that somehow i'm the one that weaves the ropes and binds me down and hems me in and keeps the weight of not just two but many, many worlds on my shoulders. the effects are clear and i believe i'm the root of my own evil but my methods remain hidden; my own means of self-disillusionment are murky, at best, and i sit here disatisfied and groping for any sort of pleasure. caught between aversion and grasping, too anxious to take solid steps forward. am i a cheater? do i use people? do i use myself?
probably so. i'm asking for my compass.
