and...

I started wondering, when, when exactly is the time, that it is too late. When, at what moment exactly will you recognize, whoa, man, it is too fucking late.
Will I be able to change, like I so often did? Did I change on a regular basis, because I was afraid I´d be in a state I didn´t like when the moment of truth arrived?
Or, did I constantly change because deep down I knew, that it was already too late?
And was I dreaming, or wide awake? Do you fall asleep when it is too late, or is it the moment you wake up, thinking, what the fuck?
Is the use of that silly metaphor necessary? And if I never truly believed in anything, which is engraved in my bone and coronar muscles, why did I put energy into it?
So, are we already living as if it was too late, maybe we did, so our meanningless talks about, what to do so it is not too late are indeed meaningless and we have already lost, so our lives are over.
And, if I don´t change, what am I going to do if everyone else does so.
Also, what puts me in this position, if not I myself. And on, too late for what? What if great expectations and ambitions are not there anymore. Or, maybe have bever been. No one expects anything of you. Is that a role you want to play? Also, now is possibly still the time to make fun of those, we never wanted to be like. At the latest, realizing immense behavioral problems, we can say, okay, maybe we did get like that, but we are different, still. What is that?
So, leap, jump, run? Making the leap. But for what? Yourself? What if you are comfortable. Career, for whom. Going nowhere today. Are we an example for no future?
And we run to the next pub, or gig, or whatever there is. Gulp down another drink. And another.
I won´t be like them, never, cheers on that.


John Fingersam, Realizing Problems