empty days.
empty and waiting to be filled.
i know what i have to do.
and never take steps.

no papers to write.
or books to read.
or friends to call...
who are not previously engaged.
and a few weeks until there is structure again to what i do.

you are driving far.
already half way there.
and i long to have an adventure.

but my life is not autonomous.
i do not decide what i do.
i have half responsibilities.
and no fiscal value.
that's what they say.

so i sit here.
i whine and complain.
shower every few days.
and develop an interest in things of no value.

soon i will dance in the rain.
soon i will become something.
how do i prepare for that?
what can i make of the days before?
wishing and wishing i could spend them with you.