Choices?

this or that

(the struggle introduced)

Was I supposed to turn this left,
Maybe that one it was,

Did never, it matter?
Matter, it never did.

I will just drive ahead,
straight like an arrow

Oh strait-like narrow,
with great lies filled within,
this space I now find myself in.
Every choice forced down my throat by fate.
Conflicts within.

A new home.

(am I the struggle?)

There are conflicts within me,
Which way do I go?

My phone’s dead, the maps out.
Should I ask for directions, stop or go slow?
Forever, I have heard these roads do not flow.

Dark skies cover me up high,
My girlfriend’s empty Starbucks, the seat below.
No map, No compass,
No Idea where to go.

I have been going straight so long
even the roads ask me now
Which way do I plan to go?

… my new home.

These car seats.

(why should I even struggle?)

I thought I planned ahead
Should anyone ever plan ahead?
Maybe I should have never gone.

For a turn it was,
that a car bumped my rear,
Is it only me who finds change so unfamiliar?
Straight ahead always looks so clear
No checks or Lane changes,
Nothing to fear.

But I fear I do not remember

How far I have come along,
And the songs I loved all feel so wrong.
No rhythm beats
and I loathe the comfort of warm sheets,
I think I would rather rot in these car seats.

Land of Shite

(yeah, fuck choices)

To jump in a deep pit,
to rot in a pile of shit
but I still hope to become a butterfly.

A lotus I am not,
for it chooses that flourishing is to be sought. In mud, a deep pile.

“Choose to smile”
Mother always sounded so vile.
The act of choosing never really felt right,
necessity be as it might.

You say it matters what I choose,
And that I choose.
What happened to your God’s might?
Choose to take a right,
And get crushed by a vaping teen going 90 in 50, who with his 9th girlfriend of the quarter just had a fight.
Yeah, I think I choose to live and suffer in this Land of Shite.