What is it that I want?
What is it that I crave?
In quiet nights when the static fills the room, what is it that will chase away the cacophony of discomfort?
What do I want from them? What do I want from you? (From life? From Myself?)
There is a Wanting
Some deep hunger fills my being craving everything the world has to offer.
Is it validation? Am I looking for words and responses to tell my beaten mind that I am worthy of love and care?
Is it love? The embrace of such that felt so far away?
Is it attention? That I might matter because people care to think of me, that they might enjoy the sight, the presence of me?
Is it renown? That I may be recognized for my talents, and praised for my paltry efforts?
What do I want?
Out of myself? Out of my life?
What is it about this time in my life now that makes me feel so deeply uncomfortable with myself?
Why do I crave something to fill the quiet now more than ever?
What am I avoiding?
What am I choosing to ignore?
I am full of questions, and full of greed.
There is no insight here today, just a bundle of questions and the overwhelming feeling that I am missing something right in front of my face.
(The coward questions why they feel unfulfilled and why life feels meaningless, when they have allowed fear to be the only thing they’ve committed themselves to.)
-And if I find the answer, can I find a direction? May I find the wind I need to keep going? (I don’t know that I can keep going.)
Extraordinarily Ordinary 