Sometimes I feel like such a mess. Not in the extreme, negative, self-deprecating sort of mess as much as a highly unorganized sort of mess. A lot of it comes along with the ability to focus, or the lack thereof, but I am not too sure where else this whole thing gets unravelled. Maybe that is part of why I feel that way. Without a clear vision of the pathway through it I tend to see only chaos. How annoying.
I like the idea of possibilities. I am glad to have a very powerful imagination to fuel my perception of potential. It can be a boon all by itself. It is something I should lean more heavily on from time to time.
Where, then, is my beautiful companion? She is probably not far if I would simply open up my eyes. I do not like the idea of being alone for so long, yet I tend to resist thinking that I have any sort of possibility somewhere within my reach. It is a strange sort of existence. My nature seems to look for something that likely does not exist. What a curious creature I am.
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