Where do I go from here?

The world stopped looking forward,

and so did I.

I wanted to be welcomed, to be wondered about, to be recognized.

Instead,

I got questions.

Who the fuck are you? Why aren't you more interesting and compelling and engaging?

Who the fuck are you?

I am you.

I am you - the best of you - the worst of you. I am you, half cut with a smoke and wandering around hoping the pretty neighbour will notice. I am you, half asleep and sober with hope and love thinking the pretty neighbour will notice.

I am you.

You are both here and there and everywhere as well.

I am you.

I am you, but trying. I try to be the one. I try to be the only one. I try to be the only one who cares.

Maybe I care too much. Maybe I look forward too much. Maybe I wander too much.

Maybe not.

I am you. I am me. I am us.

We are in this together and I understand. We are not apart. We are a part of the whole, big beautiful thing.

The world stopped looking forward, but I could not.

I see you here, and there and everywhere as well.