I don't belong

There is a restlessness that I have always known

and now I know it to be more ingrained than any other experience; try as I do to shake it. No, this one isn’t diagnose-able…well..it could be; as all we experience emotionally is systemically analyzed, dissected, and labeled.

But, for the moment, I speak of the need to move and be free.

I am not tethered to this world though I am quite caught and entangled often by it.

What I learn, I learn from damage

There is a world outside of the worlds we create to comfort ourselves in living…who cares?

Why do I have so much, yet I struggle? Why do I need so little, yet want too much? Why does socioeconomic status look so much like an identity to me? Why am I this disillusioned?

You may notice a pattern in rants of self deprecation and dejection. Repeat. Uselessness and unending apathy towards my place as it has been dictated.

I am stuck here.

And
if that is the worse I have to complain of, it is no worry that ought to be.

Where children eat mud to quell hunger pangs. Where filth is life and to eat is living.

We live to eat. We call ourselves: enthusiasts…foodies. And we take pride in our gluttony.

Father, forgive us, we know perfectly well what we are doing; even as ignorance dominates and infiltrates our every measured breathe we breathe as we choke on bones and spit out the meat because it isn’t sweet as our tastes demand
mouth to hand
hand to mouth

rotate. repeat. purge. repeat.

We choose to be blind and fall in the streets together like drunks after binging.

Father, forgive me.