Two Feet In Front of Me

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
from now--on

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,
half-lived
I've only moved two feet towards what I can give

The rest is lost in memories, digital photos of the places
I've gone
The people
I've met
The past, but what of the becoming--
isolated?

Two feet in front of me,
what a wonderful gift
to go
to an online chatroom and find neighbors across the world
can't stand the ones across the street
right?
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"

the window that went

I guess there was a small window in which I was entertaining this idea of wretchedness
like she did
with her pretty prayers and daily study and still no testimony near holy

and me, harsh words, abrasive even to those I love for no reason
though I would give my spleen to a stranger

but which way is better?

how many are touched by her show of piety
how many will see in my deeds God Almighty

and so I am burning up under my calm expression--
as she shares all she shouldn't have learned from life's lessons
and then I quietly think though all the others that have no show of the Change
as she quietly says her evening prayers.