I'm not sure that I'm satisfied with the person I've become. I feel as though time is running short.. and I'm not running fast enough.
It makes me rather uncomfortable when a person watches me over my shoulder as I work. I'm no New York street artist who can perform fluently, even with looming crowds about. Time is that daunting figure. I can't move, but I can't stop. I feel like I'm trapped in between with nowhere to go. I'll never finish what I need to, I'll never be able to completely say what I intend, I'll just never be. I'm always running out of time, and soon enough, that looming figure will get tired of me lagging and kick me right in the back.
And I just won't know what to do anymore.
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