My whole life was two feet in front of me
where I would decide to go
what I would decide to do
and who I would decide to listen to
It's on, and I cannot focus on what I need to do
These pixels are perfect
Not a reflection of the users at all
Two feet in front of me lies my life
In a basement, undisclosed
Closed off rather
"Do Not Disturb"
I'm trying to make something out of nothing,
or pixels, same thing right?
Two feet in front of me.
Don't have time to listen to your problems.
I'm trying to fix my own. I'm sure Google knows...
how to fix a life,
I've only moved two feet towards what I can give
The rest is lost in memories, digital photos of the places
The past, but what of the becoming--
Two feet in front of me,
what a wonderful gift
to an online chatroom and find neighbors across the world
can't stand the ones across the street
The ones through the lines have an airbrushed illusion of me
that they admire
I thought I'd love it. I hate it.
I've only shared my good, but I expect them to know my failure.
Are we done pretending?
So I'm taking my two feet, stuffed neatly beneath my desk, and I'm sitting here until I complete--
what I started. An accurate depiction of disconnect.
Response to Jim Rohn's talk "Turning Nothing Into Something"