onemorepanic

Open this up with whatever resides.
Close this off with lyrics pre-quoted. Then delete them.
Expected is nothing that follows besides that.

Point sight at ideals, past ideals, current ideals.
Anything concerning anything that I could possibly have an opinion on and question it.

I've never been more comfortable with myself, and for some reason it's the scariest thing.

I look back and no longer recognize the was who I am three years ago. And I relate to that sliver even more so than I would have expected then. Or not.

In understanding the present the past is fragmented. I see shatterered pieces of myself then and therefore currently. Pieces of me like crossword.

Was it a bad idea to find comfort in today?
I don't think so.
But why is it so overwhelming?
Who the fuck have I been? Why the fuck was this so important? Why am I steadfast in these circular ideals?

I'm not imagining how I arrived at this point.
I'm just tracing back the timeline and placing gratitude in the road that is now.

And I just need me and the one's that surround me to figure out the current locale.
To discover the fruits we may pick.
And taste and throw away.