Oh Brother

(I feel so aesthetic this morning)

Little do I know about the world and that'll be so until I travel every single inch of it. Until I toil the icy lands and surf the raging seas will I ever trust that I am experienced. My soul is loud. My heart pounding. I am seventeen. My hormones shoot to every necessary micrometer of my body. All the sweet fantasies of adventure, love and dreams are high and hot and like boiling water will disperse to the air. The air will be thin and join the clouds above then fall into the seas then evaporate to the skies. The cycle goes on. Air is pregnantly symbolic.

My adventurous spirit is encased in this languid body. My youth scorches but the fires die even younger. The only source of difference would be my spirit--dysfunctional without a vitality in the flesh. The listlessness is my fault. I am my intrinsic enemy. If I were more expressive, everything would work. But, I am not. I do not have the drive and a once-full tank car could tragically become a now-empty steel case. I am too young to be my own enemy.

And get me started on the area of romance. Trapping myself in this mundane side of the world has made me hunger for it. If I link this to the physical delirium of a monthly cycle, the week before my predestined bleeding is the week of this hunger. My unpaired baby explodes once this famishment has not been satisfied. But I too believe that every being needs it. It is the sole invention that mankind needs. The whole of mankind is autistic. 

Now you, after reading this account, what is it that I lacked? Should I be ashamed of my carnal desires? Or that woeful spirit that was once alive and breathing as if it were carnal? I do not want anything. But I need some wanting. And I want some needing. And oh brother, I may fail at a poetic paragraph and a mixture between poetry and prose but the will to express is there. How I wish it would be consistent.




and it's still out of my reach...and it's still all of the things that I want in my life
Kids In Love by Mayday Parade