I always have much to say but no impetus to type it out.

I have ideas and dreams and one or two regrets and impatience to get on with things and a sense of possibility, none of which has been detailed here.

I am fighting for relevance and achievement
and trying to indulge
my inner child
and restless nomadic heart
that longs to wander
tripping over jungle vines
and sinking into tide pools
but is mired here
and now
while my mind roams free
I am fighting for future and past
both inside me
and trying to maintain
the truth of me

With no comments I will never know what you think of this. But perhaps that's for the best. After all, whose approval am I seeking? Who am I living this life for?