Blotch Life.

Staring at the ink blotch
on the page.
Wonder how it got there,
wonder how I ended up
so like it.
Stuck to the paper,
with so much to say,

but nowhere to go.

- - -

I was looking through my poetry file (yes, I actually do have a folder that I keep all my rough drafts in, no wonder we have no trees :/) and I sort of just happened on this peice. I have no idea when it was written, how I was feeling when I wrote it, or even where I happened upon the inspiration for it. Hmm. I'll have to jog my memory.

Looking at it now, I can see that it still has a lot of relevance to my life. I feel like I have nowhere to go. I feel like I'm stuck all the time. It's so hard to change, and so hard to do the things that I need to do. I just leave all of these unfinished strings of...everything everywhere.

I have no drive. :(