immediates for maybe something a little less temporary, maybe some self control, maybe i'll stop caring so much, maybe i'll care too much, maybe.
my guilt is ignited by the novelty of my vices. i realize when i grow accustomed to myself, my flaws, i no longer expect much. but i don't know myself that well.
the possibility is what hurts most.
i'm surrounded by beginnings and ends,
i love the volatility.
i'm at home in uncertainty.
and how could i sit still with so much world i have yet to see?