Time

I wish I could make up my mind about what I want. My fickleness is a source of frustration. See-saw of indecisiveness. Pendelum of confussion. Tide of anxiety. Tick tock. Time is running out. Running out of what? I don't know. Either way, if I don't even know what I want, and have absolutely no idea why I was put in this earth for, how can I be running low on time? It still causes anxiety,this not knowing. I can hear the clock tick; it's in my heart, in my head, in stomach. Every breath marks a second lost, a minute not used, an hour wasted. It's a day, a week, a month, a year, a decade. What's my purpose? What's my rush? Tick tock. I'm Captain Hook's crocodile, the one that swallowed the clock. Tick tock. Tick tock. It's inside of me. Tick tock. Tick tock. It doesn't stop. Only when I sleep do I lose track of time. Almost. Not quite. What's my purpose? My destiny? Will I know it when I find it? Will time stop then? Tick tock. Tick tock. Stop! That rhymth is in everything I do. A binder. Dinner. A movie. Vacation. Tick tock. I blindly search. But I don't know what I'm looking for. All I know is that I want it to stop. The tick tock. I don't want it. Tick tock. Stop. Tick tock. Leave me alone. I'm not old. I'm not behind. I'm where I should be. I'm where it's right for me. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Or am I? There's no way to know. No way to find out. Is where I am where I should be? Is who I am who I should be? Tick tock. Time stop ticking. Let me be me. Let me not care. Let me not measure myself by what I've accomplished or haven't accomplished during my time on earth. People tell me I have my whole life ahead. The tick tock tells me I don't. It tells me to hurry. Reminds me I'm behind. I'm never catching up. Rush. But to what? Tick tock. Reminds me I don't have a path. I can't rush because I don't know what to rush to. Tick tock. Tick tock. Stop ticking. Let me live. Maybe I'm late. Maybe I'm early. But maybe, just maybe, I'm just on time.