scinge

Time goes by like a buzz in my ear, a mosquito that aches to get close enough to suck the life out of me.
As much as I swat it away, again and again the buzz comes back.
I try to forget and just get on with it. Ignore the ticking of the clock that seems to render everything and anything worth doing... well, worthless.

There's not enough pages in the history books for all of us.
Who the hell would read it if there were?

I think of people expiring everyday, lost and unknown and it makes me want to scream.
Where am I? Where am I going?
Who was I?

I am me. I am now.
Wasting it is a waste of time.
Escape to somewhere, here or there seems ideal but it remains out of reach.
If I could just stay moving...
Or find a good reason to stay put.

Restlessness is both a motivator and a distraction.
But so is contentment.
The vicious circle that is the halo over my head wants to slip down to clench my throat.
I have to hold it up with one hand and try to get done what I can with the other.

But.
Gravity.