Pumped Up Kicks.

Everyone wants to been seen,

but not for what they are,
everyone is the master,

masters of disguise.

Here is the problem.

I know I need to get out of my head and start listening to what is in front of me and not what is behind me, the problem I am having is staying out of my head after it is quiet in front of me.

I am not made of rubber, I can only be pulled and stretched a little, tiny bit before flipping all over the place. I can only do what is asked of me, and make up the rest.

Its been too long since my Grandma died.

I still think I need to go call her, visit her, hold her hand. Clean her mats until they shined so she could tell me something about anything she would tell me. My mother was the youngest of three just like my Ella, I see the dynamic that she grew up in being the youngest of three sisters raised in a good home that was built just for them.

I think of how I could relay my day, because when I call, you'll ask "how are you?" I beleive at the time you were the only one who really cared about my answer. She loved me for me. For my Mother. For my Father. For my brothers. She looked at me and saw me, my eyes, my soul. She was connected to this life we live for the purpose that she understands more than I can ever dream of.

Everyday I can't beleive another day has passed and I didn't fully appreiciate every moment of it. Moments passed and I didn't take note, I began to know that when I died I would appreciate it more. I began to want to die...

...and still kind of do.

(I'm now the devil's advocate)

If I died. I would know. I wouldnt have to wonder about endless possibilities, I would know.