moulding

shuffling with everyday life,
i try to figure a perfection.
suspecting every simple movements,
every slight decisions.
curing suspicions that were lighted.
browsing through my surrounded,
i try to master my pursue.
but what are they?
where are they.
speeches that reverberate nothing,
esoteric cells.
i need to simmer this heat,
take things slowly.
pounding a firm foundation,
so i don't sway.
beauty lies in the eyes of what,
in wat way,
in wat sense.

i am so granulated.
how am i going to compose.




yc