It's just everything. All the little things. Jumping rope in the literal sense not just the kind that moves in a circular manner around your 3 foot tall body. Standing on top of tables or laying underneath them. It's like who the fuck have I become? I can't even remember where I started. Why do we always give ourselves away to the "we's"? It's just a means to an end. Or at least a hopeful end. Nothing is guaranteed. I broke it and you bought it. Stop saying no and start saying yes. Stop being someone I want to change. Stop letting me change for you. I fucking love this version of me and you have yet to know her. But that says more about me than it does about you. I'm not really quite sure what keeps me. I'm not really quite sure of what it is that I am doing or practicing, or who this person is. And I hate that. I need it still and it's not what you've got, I'm almost sure of that. But the problem, I feel, lies in the fact that I'm looking in you and her and him to find me and there's no logical reasoning for that. I'm restless. Literally without sleep or words to explain it. I keep planning and hoping and crossing my fingers and my t's repetitively. It's all worn out. No more planning or waiting. It's mine. It belongs to me and in my hands. I wanna be the fight. I wanna be the fire.

Is it better to burn out quick than it is to slowly fade away?