I have wondered if I could point a finger in some blame in some deflection. I reflect. I have felt too out of place too long although it’s all the same. I have always felt out of place. I am bored to the point of self-abuse. I am angry at, not with. I am bored to the point of no longer having an excuse. I blame myself.
The decision to leave was simple; choosing where to go was more difficult. I decided on home and to figure out the rest when certainties began to sort themselves out when my thoughts untwisted when I remembered to remember to remember who I am where I belong what I deserve. I had put it off had tried to sort out nothings had tried to try to try too much too long too prone to forget.
I am sentimental sad I am optimistic for some future.