I want to see, to touch and smell, to feel and taste, to observe and to be
Everything extraordinary and dull in this world alike
I want to run with my hands spread wide,
Touching every dust molecule and wooden splinter, every flower pettal and house brick, every stone wall and wooden door, every blonde hair and red curl, every eyelash, sand grain, horse tail, banana tree, church bell, truck wheel, bread crust, bathtub edge, curtain eaten away at by moths, warehouse, diner ketchup bottle, comic book, fur coat, telephone pole, wrestling uniform, dirty fish aquarium, box of matches, itchy bathrobe, pocket watch, balloon animal, every feather flap and boat anchor.
I'd like to be in every fold and every pocket, in every village and metropole, in every tragedy and comedy, I'd like to be the one watching, the one seeing, the one remembering.
I want to see all lives because I feel I've Lived them
And yet I haven't lived at all.
How can I know which one I want, until I know which ones I have rejected?
How can I reject, when I haven't tested? Some could.
Some could find happiness and joy and never abandon it.
I first must abandon, in order to know that it is true.
My restlessness brings me guilt and overcomes it
To love the
blue sheets, flower shops, Turkish spices, leather backpacks, tribal dances, abandoned couches on street corners, public vegetable gardens, river shores, masked street singers, uncooked carrots, video calls, muddy boots, tarot cards, outlets and chargers, elephant art, polka-dot dresses, wet towels, rusty vacuum cleaners, cheap cashew nuts, glitter eyeshadow, foreign waiters, sugary liquor and ruined notebooks
of my own world,
I first must learn could they withstand other worlds
When I would be another,
How deeply would this another truly be?
I can imagine myself everywhere in a second I can become anyone
I am every person in the world and every living and dying thing I could be
I have lived all lives
But I haven't lived any
I am no one at all and I am many 
