I can't quite seem to escape myself fast enough.
Like trying to squeeze myself through a hole the size of a pinhead
It's rapidly shrinking, and I'm already halfway through
So here's the question
Do I abandon part of myself, and regrow, evolve, venture into the unknown
Or do I desperately wrench my body backwards,
and try as best i can to preserve what was?
Can't I just be, sometime else, anytime else?
A time of nomads and nature, a time where I don't know any better than what is before me?
But no
It would only be the same
I would search for new truths to reveal themselves to me
For meaning, like I still do
Even time can't save me from myself
Only I can
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