I am not a science project.

:: reaching ::

I keep coming here to write, but the eight-hundred and fifty ideas that grabbed my brain’s attention didn’t dig in as well where my fingertips were concerned; they were lost to the ether beyond, looping and whorling on their way out.

It’s hard to wave goodbye to them with hands so shaky and cold.

I changed my color for you

I shed my coat with caution

I lack the beauty you display

See here they are the bruises

Some were self-inflicted

And some showed up along the way

UPDATE, Twelve-fourteen pee emm:

“I’ve thought about meaning, but it’s like how scientists using the background radiation from the Big Bang determine that our Galaxy is moving at 1.4 million miles per hour, but can’t say where we are headed. I can choose how I feel to some degree by managing my perspective and keeping my actions constructive. I don’t suffer from a sense of meaninglessness, but of an abundance of meanings and the ineffable burden of choice.“

Yeah, what he said.