And its another Thanksgiving.
A time to be reflective on what we are thankful for having both within ourselves and around us.
I find myself, in my tye-dye sweatshirt, on my roommate's bed, at 3 AM, in a state of enigma.
Of how much.
I
am thankful for.
Yet, at the same time, I find myself empty.
When I should be so full.
Why do I always get like this?
"Is this what I really want?"
"Is this how I really feel?"
"Is this really right?"
"Am I really supposed to do this?"
I guess time would be the best answer to all four of these questions.
Yet in the pit of my stomach.
And in the apparent evidence of my faces.
And aspirations.
And dreams.
The answer is probably there.
...
So what's the issue at hand?
You're empty until I digest.
Maybe processes for me are slower than most.
...But what if I'm right?
Then again, I'm so often proven incorrect.
Just let me swallow.
And try to take this
one
day
at
a
time
and
not
waste
space
thinking.
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