Just killing time

I lack a sense of direction so I tend go where the mighty wind blows, not much in my pockets but doubt and empty promises swirled with woes from long ago, 
Just one of those days when I'm off in a funk caused by to many roaming thoughts that I have yet to debunk, I hate being still, sitting and waiting for some meaningless task to crush my endless debating, yet that's the current situation I find myself entertaining it's a never ending game of what ifs, I should place more confidence in the steps I take, but I lack the conviction
I tend to think the other side is always greener I've gotten burned plenty of times by ambition
Everything I do is with the best of intentions, but time brings with it a certainty that claims everything to just another past selection