With Purpose

There has never been
a time in my life
where I have felt
on top of things.

I see now
that seeking control
over one's life
is folly
but I still see the difference
between a harmful state
of seeking control
and an unstable state
of feeling out of control.

My life
is well and truly
the latter.

Am I lazy
because I don't do the things
that I would like to do?

Or do I think to much
and spend so much time
in my head
planning
creating new ideas
that I don't leave enough time
after the mundane tasks are attended to
(or not attended to as the case may be)
to progress my ideas, plans and projects?

Ego hopes it's the latter.

But the little voice
full of words
that force cognitive fusion
tells me it is because I am useless
pathetic
worthless
incapable
weak
lazy
selfish
and so on
and so fifth.

However it is
or however I suppose it to be
I am not living
the life I want
to the point
where I don't feel
like I am living at all.

I have never felt
an absolute purpose
above random and whimsical desires
that lack any semblance of concrete reality.

There is nothing that I do
well enough
to forge into a vision
of who I am
that I would then be able to
manifest into being.

Drifting.

That is all.

Sometimes floating.

Sometimes sinking.

But never charging ahead
with purpose.