I question that if I throw my heart fully into something, will I end up destroying it?  We all learn to withdraw for safety, and yet America is telling us is to be open, translucent, speak your heart!  But what is my heart really saying?  Sometimes, it should not be allowed to speak.  Sometimes it's a mingled disaster of wires and seriously, I can't even begin to understand what it would say if it could.  I wonder if I do fear "success" or if tainted trickery of darkness options against me.  How far does our own science stretch before it crosses a thin line into abyss, or the wonders of what is labeled spirituality?  Spiraling eternal like a broken shell.  

So with my lists made, and unending confusion at how to live, I pursue the day, the moment, the year.  No one signals in LA when they jump lanes in traffic.  Little do we signal our lovers while pulling the rug out from under them, lost in our selfish ambitions, or even thought-less thoughtfulness, unable to feel the catch & pull of a thread at our feet.  We mantle hazard, prize and barrel.  Attempt to bottle words for purpose, and stitch up moments of success.  I fear everything I've ever been taught is a joke.  I am afraid of my own thoughts at times, irritated I cannot relinquish, because it only gains loss.  What can be liberating about the  death of a dream?  Something determined, spent, coursed, tested?  How is failure not an option when our best intentions pave the road to hell?  Or when an ex's crippling fears destroys the others heart?  Everyone on green, set for winning.  There are only a few gold medals to go around, yet we are determined, expecting, exhausted and very afraid.  

So here I am.  Reducing this nonsense down to tangible efforts & at the end of a vision, unable to see any further.  Have I simply been released, like many employments I had before positioning myself in music, with a little I.M.'ed slip, "We feel you don't belong here"?  I've heard that so many times... and now when it's too close to me, art I need to envision embodying - I am stuck.  As years before, bound up with less desire to move forward, than to simply give up.  Always feeling the cold press of a glass wall, and further still, looking for a light switch.  It's expensive to complete, to be understood, to live out loud & sequence what you thought you were made for.  It's expensive to continue, but perhaps a hell of a lot more to not.