Maybe I’m at the stage where I
just don’t want what others want
for me, no matter what they say,
I want to find my own way.

Easier said than done. When you don’t
know which direction to go or the destination,
only the beginning is marked out. Guess
I’ll just keep swimming in endless circles.
(the start is the end is the start is the journey still -
I am the circle and the circle is me – )

But so what? Fuck futility, fuck impotent gestures,
there’s this itchy scratchy feeling that screams
something is wrong this isn’t right
I want to fight, I want out, and not
knowing what it is I’m searching for won’t
stop me from searching.

I’d rather swim for naught
in endless circles, than stop and float
belly up, at the surface.

Only dead fish float,
and I’m not dead yet
(am I?)
(tell me I’m not)