i want to do everything, so i do nothing

inspired by: luisa

often, i dream about everything i could be: a musician with calloused fingers, a traveler tracing the edges of the world, a poet, a songwriter, a master of my craft

observing those who are is not enough

but i never seem to arrive wholly there. and on the rare occasions that i do, it feels like luck: a single bright moment that slips through my hands as quickly as it came

my goalpost is always shifting and my attention is always elsewhere, never staying long enough to find out if i could actually be remarkable at something

sometimes i wonder if the constant wanting is the problem