Not one to have you:
Can I ever even so much as glimpse you?
Or do you exist in a world of the past
Never to be resurrected, no matter how much I,
Silly as I am,
Ever the lost,
Quiz, test, and probe my environment, disheartened?
Unless I am better forsaken-
Ending my try prematurely at a thing inaccessible-
Never shall I find rest!
To rest is pure torture, but to labor for naught
Is a distraction, a burden
And a chance lost at finding something to
Love and cherish.
(I apologize for the incredibly long poem of sorts. It is terrible, I know).
I do have a greater purpose; something to aim at or in honor of. But though I hear of great things, my courage fails me at initiating them in my own life and the same, I suppose, applies to everyone else around me: mediocrity rules and fails us all.
I tire of things of relative uselessness. I would rather work hands on, or in some radical way, to combat a problem outside the confines of the formal, law-laden business world. I am tired of writing fluff articles for newspaper, censoring essays for political correctness, dedicating hours to feed the already well-fed, and performing for those whose life lacks no entertainment... Ugh. Forgive me; I do not detest the tasks I have. I am just tired of not having something huge going on. All of me yearns for a change I can see; something personal... And I cannot figure out how to get any plans of mine started as a reality.