Feeling overwhelmed with ideas, weighed down by a lack of execution. I’m moving at a snails pace, and I guess that’s okay, ’cause I’m not in a race…
or am I?
A race against myself? A race against time? A race against a window of opportunity closing, exposing me to what could have been but will never be?
I’ll see.
But right now I’m feeling overwhelmed with ideas, weighed down from no direction, causing introspection, that too knows not where to go.
And so…
I’m left scratching my temple. It could all be so simple, but I’d rather make it hard. Loving me is like a battle, but I’m fucking worth the scars.
Just sittin’ here feelin’ what I feel, stealin’ verses from Lauren Hill
because right now that’s easier than writing.
Leave a Reply