scattered gratification

Today was forfeit before it even began. I'm tired in so many ways of the life I am living right now. Not tired of living as a whole, but in this specific time and place and setting. The words I speak here are underestimated and misunderstood. The nights are taken advantage of by sleeping and dreaming and I can't help but wonder if anyone here even begins to understand why I want to run in the opposite direction(highly unlikely). I miss the roads and wet pavement. I long for the safe forests and nights next to the vast ocean. 

I sit on a futon and write about things people don't want to think about. As when I speak, I speak of things people don't want to talk about. 

Maybe that's why so many existences are bland and unfulfilled. We talk words and lines, experiences and past. But we don't talk emotion and feelings. We don't talk stories and wholehearted truth. We sit cross-legged, with our chin up hoping no one will ask anything that requires further inquiry from you. Not because you are incapable, but because life is so much "easier" to live when treading the surface; when nothing is intimate and everything apathetic. The part of that philosophy that I find contradictory is, treading water is so much harder than allowing your legs to rest and let yourself float, and eventually drift to the bottom.