::...I think...::

There's not enough time.
There's never enough time.
There will never BE enough time.

If I could have one wish,
it would be for more time.
Time to live,
think,
read,
sleep,
breathe,
stare into nothingness,
be w/ friends,
spend money in ridiculous ways,
be irresponsible,
lay in bed for no reason,
party,
sing,
listen,
write,
contemplate life's mysteries.
On and on it could go.
Endlessness has no meaning
during this lifetime.
Everything comes to an end
- that's the sad truth
everyone must face
at some time or another.

Sometimes I sit back in my chair,
and simply think.
I think about my past.
I think about my furture.
I think about my present.
I think about my fortune.
I think about my misfortunes
(and I think that I think about these too much).
I think about my dreams,
my ambitions,
my goals,
my accomplishments,
my failings,
my concessions.
I think about my age.
I think about my health.
I think about the fucking speck of something
in my eye that's annoying the shit out of me today.
I think about not being able to do anything
about removing the speck of something.
I think about crying everyday.
I think about going to Dr to get meds.
I think about depression, and what a crutch it is.
I think about generalized anxiety disorder,
and how it makes me want to run away
and smash things when I get stressed out.
I think about leaving.
I think about living in Texas
and the fact that I haven't seen Josh in almost a year.
I think I hate myself more than I should.
I think about loving my family and friends.

I think I'm done. ...for now...I think.