it is 10:46 and i am eating cheese that expired yesterday in my room thinking about my friend that says he wants to be a chef but does not actually want to be a chef and only says that because people get more excited about cooking than they do engineering. lately i have been living off of iced coffee and quotes from dead philosophers gone before their time and wondering what it takes to be one. when people ask me what i want to do with my life i tell them i want to be a teacher but i don’t really want to be a teacher and only say that because people think it is more realistic to teach than write poetry. when i finally get the urge to do something productive with my life i think i will drive to an open parking lot alone and stare at the sky for hours because that is what reminds me of home. after all this time i have come to the startling realization that home is not a specific place or a specific person but is the world itself because we are all helplessly clinging by our toes to a rock suspended in a blanket of stars rotating 1,040 miles per hour and praying to god that there is something else out there so we are not as alone as we are here and that is what makes us human and being human is what makes us whole but how can we be whole if that is all there is in the universe? i try to be religious but when i write i use a lowercase g in god and i hope when i die he forgives me for the creative licensing i have taken to using with his name and that everything i write about is sad because our world is really a nice place if you look from the outside in.