I want a hobby.

I want a reason to leave my room and go outside, or at least somewhere else. What I really wish I had, is a job, but oh well.

I could whine for a while, but then who’ll read it?

I write code and I write my reactions to poetry,
I go to class and I take tests
there’s some walking interspersed in there too
I eat and I sleep
the rest of the time goes toward my computer
or staring out the window.

The sunsets, splayed  out across the sky
wonderful for the time being
I have two trees
a server with my webpage on it
half read books litter my room
and old magazines I clipped model trains from
to paste on my wall
because anything is better than white paint.

I daydream and think about what-ifs
the past rolls through like a train
stopping all traffic
clanging bells resound
blurry shapes glide from ear to ear
the actualities distorted by time and opinion
is it just a fantasy at this point
delusion given shape?

Tomorrow’s another day, let’s see what happens.

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