Turning

[Viking Fox]

Looking over my shoulder. I used to be older. Life was colder. In the sun. Being a bum. To what ends can I shun reality? Turning from this to the you in me. Seeing that seeing is all just a game. It's like poker. I can't play poker. So I'm abandoning everything and becoming a fledgling. Indefinitely, there is a storm of thought. I can't hold what I've got. So I turn. And keep turning. Life is a mess and I failed at finding the solution. I can't bullet proof this and I go back into myself. 

I give up. But it's not embodied. So I am in the habit of giving up over and over. I ruined my life. I'm not an inventor, an entrepreneur, a lobbyist, a writer, a politician nor a fire fighter. So I write, hopefully quietly. I can't fix myself. I can't fix the world. 

I'm using John C. Parkin's idea of saying, "fuck it". After ten years, I give up. I give up on hoping that the circumstances of my life will improve.