Head

An hour in the morning in the real world

but in my head is just an hour to think about it like any other.

What day is today?

Does not really matter.

What matters is that it is a day

and days are made to live

and not to be numbered.

Why is it that when I want both events

they take so long to happen?

And when it finally happens,

I have just the excitement of the moment and then come back to the same doldrums ever?

I've said it before but I'll say it again

because it seems more real to me:

I only know how to live in the past and in the future.

I can hardly make my present something exciting.

Or just busy.

I wish it were different, but it is.

All are actors, playing roles that suit them.

Few people show the reality of themselves.

Sometimes because reality is too shocking

in others, not wanting to face the judgment of others.

I try to import as little as possible

but sometimes I also freak.

Maybe not act healing for me.

Or maybe I was born without the disease.