Melancholy & Missing Lighters

 I despise trains. I've said it before, I've said it again, I'll never stop saying it. I am heading west, for maybe a job. Maybe we'll get there in time or maybe not. Maybe the organizers will have an issue with us. It'll be us and us alone. Maybe we'll encounter a fellow worker from this life. I do not know. But we are running late and these trains are running me up a wall.  I do not enjoy the anxiety this all entails. But what else is there? Where else is there to truly go? I feel so empy and aimless. I lack any will to push forward. Only my partner's annoying pressing keeps me going. How he has the strength to keep positive or at least the strength to keep going when there is no hope left is beyond me. Maybe I am too privileged. Maybe depression and lack of motivation is a privilege. Maybe having someone to force me to get up when I have resigned myself to simply rot is a privilege. How lucky am I to have people who care about me enough that I can't s...

 Who is my audience? That, I do not know. Who is my audience? What have I to show? Who is my audience? Who am I trying to reach? Who is my audience? Have I any words to teach? Who is my audience? Could it be the people I've met, or the ones I've not known yet? Who is my audience? Are my words for change, or for those with their minds all set? To whom am I writing for? And would they ask for more? Can not it be I for whom I sing, dance, and write?