i am lucky. i am unfinished.

I am overwhelmed by excruciating guilt of over-luck, of over-opportunity, undeserving of all I receive, undeserving to complain.

I want to DO SOMETHING. I want to expel all that was given, so I can return to soil.

I am selfish. I am disguise.

I need to Do, so I can Be, until I can Be-Not.

I am interested, fascinated, curious, inspired… an over-glamoriser under a visor, warped by disgusting zoo-cage eyes dressed up as a helper. my brain is in a cage. my brain is the cage. my brain stares upon my brain inside the cage from my brain outside the cage through the brain-cage bars, softening metal bending under gooey sugar sun.

I am over-grateful, yet constantly fear I am not grateful enough.

I want to give my self-space permission to exist. a selfish spaceman sculpting their own survival-suit… for what?

I want the option to be my entire many-selves-containing Self, AND to research and to study and be a part of a world that still seems inaccessible – now seeable, through yearning dream-glimpses, yet still not reachable enough to touch. but the space in which I am trying to be in is an in between world, neither one nor the other.

I want to make stuff, explore stuff, perform stuff, interact with people about stuff.

I want to make stuff, explore stuff, perform stuff, interact with people about stuff…

I NEED TO MAKE STUFF. write stuff. PERFORM STUFF. Be stuff. Be.

I want to make stuff, I want to make more stuff, I don’t even know if I like making stuff I think I just like having made stuff and getting to do stuff and getting to be stuff and just, all of this stuff, my stuff is everywhere, my stuff is nowhere, my stuff is not yet here…

I want to study stuff, I want to – because I WANT to. more than I potentially can. more than my ability stretches to.

I want to study stuff, as no pretender. I want to be trusted. I want to speak.

I want to share thoughts, and questions. I want to imagine questions as statements and statements as questions.

I want to be able to attend a conference and approach the people I am inspired by and tell them EVERYTHING, tell them how excited I am to be existing in the same space as them in that current moment, how the moments aligned in the most magical way – but I don’t. I remain invisibled.

I observe others occupy the moments I crave.

I choose invisibled, over-invisibled, yet crave presence. like a tiny cress alien sproutling, downwards-trapped within the floaty follicle of horizontal hope.

but I have been voiced. I have been seen. from tiny binoculars within bigger binoculars. and there are strings. and those strings connect with other strings. there is continuation of the strings. I must make continuation of the strings.

I have been lucked, I have been overlucked.

I am sickened by luck.

I must invert the process and disperse the luck.

I must plant the luck and nourish the luck and grow the luck and flower the luck and confetti the luck on those who should have had it in the first place.

I work as hard as I can, yet never hard enough.

I have been… what have I been?

I have Been.

Have I been dreaming?

I have been what I thought wasn’t possible

I have reached beyond the Do Not Touch sign, and returned with unbitten hands

I have written, I have spoken, I have sung

I am unfinished

I am untidied, I am undone

I am lucky.

I have been given an entry and I must continue to sculpt the door.