Not There Yet

I would like to stop caring so much,  
About metrics, about time,  
I would love to get rid, once and for all,  
Of all these ifs and buts,  
Of all of this, of what I've become,  
I try to cheer up and not to dwell too far out,
Into the dark.
It's too late, I see it,  
Then, it is too bright and I can't see it.
Two states of being, intertwined,  
Wisdom and ignorance,  
But only one thing desired to be known,
Something some people might foretell,  
But I do not believe them,  
A mistery, but one I can taste already:
It will be bitter and sweet,  
My future.  
For my present is both sad and happy.  
I am sad to look forward to more days like this one,  
To more nights, afraid, in shadows, in doubt.
I am happy to look back.  
I did good, I did great.  
Time has taught me, only, that it passes,  
And that lesson is enough.  
But time can't help itself to quicken its pace.  
Maybe it shouldn't.  
Or maybe nothing should be.  
Everything only is.  
You can't derive ought from is, right Hume?
So let me stay in my present,  
This fucking paradox,  
Conundrum for the heart and mind.
I will go on like this, for a while,  
Trying not to be a saint,  
Even though I know I could try,  
Even though I know it's wrong,  
When I get drunk and I get high,  
When I watch porn, when I give into lust,  
When I try to block the sun,  
That always shines.
But I forget.  
I give away into the night, so black,  
And I feel the present is too much,  
I want to die,  
It sounds like a good idea.  
But I'm afraid, and so is life,  
Nothing but a prelude for a mistery,  
For death,  
For riddles of the dark.  
How I would adore to get rid of this right now,  
But I can't,  
I'll take my leap of faith, what the hell,  
I know some things are yet to come,  
I know that final match shall be,  
But it's still far away, drawing ever nearer,  
But I'm not there yet:  
I shall linger for a while, here.