What am I doing?

Inner peace feels like cherries in spring and the leaves in August. It's like scratching an itch. Like finding a perfect puddle of water.

20070106

I'm not famous.

I'm not an artist,
Or a dancer,
A model,
An actor,
I'm just one of the many people
Standing in a sea of people.
I'm not a leader,
Or a follower.
I don't listen very well,
And maybe I talk too much sometimes.
I can be selfish,
And at other times, generous.
I can be enigmatic,
Confusing,
And yes, a little weird.
Okay, a LOT weird.
But no, I'm not anyone important.
My parents seem to think I'm awfully special.
But to the rest of the world,
I don't exist.
I haven't ever had my 15 seconds of fame.
And I have never been on TV,
And the only time I've been on stage
Is in school plays,
Which I always played an embarrassing role.
The only runway I've been on
Is at the airport,
And the only time I ever dance,
Is in my dreams.
So yes, I'm not anyone you should worry about.
There's not really a point
In getting to know me.
But if you have time,
Sit down here, next to me,
And maybe we can talk.
Cause I might not be anyone,
But I'm someone.
I'm me.
And isn't that all that matters?

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Wow, damn you Justin. That's really beautiful. I like your poetry and writing.
And yes. That is all that matters. :D
- Imdolien