Song of Myself

Of the multitudes I am, I am simply.
It brings me such pleasure to enjoy the tranquility of nature, but by the same token the chaos of civilization fascinates me so.
The responsibility of independence creates a fine line of bare-ability, on which I tread.
I balance unsure of when freedom becomes burden.
To know I could, even if I choose not to, means the world.
Knowing I can’t creates a new perception of constraint and restriction.
As a bounded person the unbounded runs my life.
A person who clings to the definite of Math and Sciences, spirituality and spiritual awareness guides my life.
I prefer to think rather than speak, but many times I do not say what I think.
I am not happy, nor can I make myself happy; even so I’m moderately content.
I’m neutral about being alone, but it is solitude that eats at me.
I see beauty everywhere, but yet I see nothing beautiful.
In the core of my cynicism I am compromised by a naïve childish hope.
Learning has always been a passion; being taught will always be ennui.
I work and commute just like any adult, but they have many years on me.
I have my passions spread out to all corners of the earth and I’d love to study them all, I just would hate to enter the professional field of all of them.
When I understand, I don’t let on; when I don’t understand, I still don’t let on.
I would love to be open minded, I just can’t seem to open my mind to it.
I am a person of want, not do and I know I’ll let myself down because of this.
Is my body a cage or is my mind a cage? No matter, I am caged.