Confessions of Eccentric Survival

Streetlights fascinated my child brain

As did the line in the middle of the street

Crossing at the lights was great fun

But better still would have been to balance

On that middle line, as the city slept

 

My nightmare was that I had run away

Though I always intended to return

I just wanted to see what freedom felt like

I’d wake up feeling guilty

For abandoning my mother in my dreams

 

 I used to go into the library just to touch the books

I didn’t always even take anything out

 I simply liked the smell and how they felt in my hands

Books kept me securely couched somewhere between

The lands of imaginative feelings and physical realities

 

Today, I often mutter to myself

“I don’t know what I am doing with my life”

When I have merely forgotten what I am doing with a moment

 Sometimes I try to say “What is this, my life” in French

But it comes out badly muddled and no one understands

 

Sometimes, when I am overwhelmed with the burden of existence

I find myself standing in the middle of the kitchen

 The sudden feeling that I have lost my purpose may cause me to sit down

Kitchens can do wonders for your perspective on life

 

Sometimes I even try to fly, although I always know it won’t work.