Gotta Be Me


To be me or not to be me, all I know is that I gotta be me.

The noble state of thinking of being

brings me no closer to an answer that probably does not exist.

Is it a good thing to sit around and let people tell me who I am?

Or allow the society I strive to enter

continue to shift my thoughts on the definition of my existence?

Should I sleep infinitely and never arise to wonder at these difficulties that lay at my feet?

Rather I take charge,

running forward into the masses exuberantly shouting,

for an infinite sleep will only lead me to a dream relying upon a partial notion of my existence.


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