What I want changes day by day,
Hour by hour, moment by moment,
If what I want now is not what I’ll want then,
Then how do I plan? I wanted to be a crafter, own my own business,
Then I wanted to be an artist, now a writer, what will I desire next?
Which life will I want to lead? Growing up they said encouragingly,
“You can do whatever you want”
Now that I’m grown, the infinite possibilities of my future freeze me.
I feel stuck in each moment; I don’t know what I’ll want to do next,
And the circle goes round and round,
“What do I want to do?”
“What do I want to do?”
“What do I want to do?”
Can I do everything and be who I want to be?
It’s not likely, I know
I’ll need to make choices, sacrifices and decisions


I am the outsider
I am the different
The artist
The healer
The trickster
That which cannot be named
That which you are afraid of

I walk the path that few others take


I sit here not knowing,
not sure what to do next,
what I’ll feel up for, I can’t sit here
always I’ll have to press on,
but not yet, not yet, I
cannot move forward right
now, I must do the work
in front of me before I
can know which direction to go.
The road is long and winding,
I stand at a crossroads, no,
that’s wrong, I’m walking
down a path and in the
distance I see a crossroads,
I have miles to go before I
get to it, miles to go before I
have to decide, so I put
one foot in front of the other,
one letter at a time, the
road is long and winding,
but I’m walking now,
step by each slow step.

The paradox of free will

Is there any choice at all or is it just an illusion,
one reaction set off by another,
spanning back to the beginning of time?
I think that I can choose my thoughts,
but what I can control are my reactions to my thoughts.
I don’t know these are questions that have been thought over for a long time;
great thinkers and philosophers have pondered this issue,
each with their own conclusion.
What it comes down to is how I live my life day to day.
I chose to believe in the illusion of free will,
I have to believe that my decisions matter,
that what I say and do is unique and is not predetermined.
The past may be done,
but the future is here for me now.


I am the universe made flesh.
I am the singularity,
no one exactly like me has existed before.
Eons of existence have passed, leading up to this point of emergence.
What I express can only be expressed
by me alone.
My voice shaped from the experiences that started at the beginning,
Bang the chain
reaction, starts, an explosion of
ideas, experiences, thoughts, words,
I am the universe made Real.