uncharted journey

I’ve spent too much time hating these circumstances
where wandering
where gazing
where listening
where hoping for the best yet to come is all in spite

I’ve spent too much time staring upwards
will stars realign for me?
will clouds of pollution part ways and convert
to their much more manageable elemental mists
just because I ask?

I’ve spent too much time looking forwards
does this vehicle need to strike my feet
for me to fall from my stature and question
the surroundings?
why am I in the middle of the highway?

I’ve spent too much time dazing daily
does this hole actually need filling?
can sweets replace inner peace?
can melodies, familiar and unchallenging,
truly stir emotions long enough to maintain sanity?

I’ve spent too much time disliking where I live
does suburbia need to generate such contempt?
others live here and enjoy it, or rather,
appear to enjoy it. why is it too hard for me to see?
why can’t I generate warmth in this hovel?

I like the plastic bags who have made friends with trees
I like the traffic light blur in my unclean glasses
I like the uncomfortably close distances we share on buses
I like the sunsets that come only when one leaves work late
I like the food I eat, filled with flavour and new voyages with each bite
I like a lot of things.

but I don’t like the sense of requirement
that I have a future
and I have a destiny
and I have a plan
and I have a map
and I have a way to get through lulls beyond
merely
existing for the
experience.