boring vs expansive

     The boring, the uninteresting, or the vast, expansive universe. The simmering feelings confused to be thoughts, or the thoughts that I know I never think. Out there, waiting. Yet, not me. I'm not quite sure I'd even find them interesting. I am my limits and constraints, and beauty is beyond me. Beyond what I can feel which often turns in on me. I feel sick at my vanity, my pride. I feel sick in the midst of my self-conscious mind. What was or what could be. The banality of my mind wishing it wasn't free. It makes the pain of failure all the more sweet. The allure of comfort, so numb and brief. The spoken word or seductive belief. Nihilism or stopping to breathe. The simple life or searching for meaning. I dig within but I just need to live to wait to have the same problems again. I'm on the edge or I have a good life. Each is true in different parts of my mind. Skills and memories slip silently away, and I doubt my perception of tomorrow today. I stick to the plan, I hold her hand, and I'll jump knowing I have somewhere to land. I fight for the good life, though it may seem boring. With more to lose, each step is rewarding. I sleep early and I wake up to work. I work for a purpose, for the health of those worth it. I practice my breathing to show that I care, and in moments together, bliss meets the air.