Roadtrip

This search for self-enlightenment is giving me some sort of zen-headache.

So I deal by morphing--

can't keep up with me (.)(?)

can't keep up with you.

Who am I, me, me in reference to we?

Who is we?  Have we met?

I'm sure it was a pleasure.

And what are we, me, I doing here?

Drowning in debt to pay our bills?

to have some thrills while we are still young enough to forget regret?

to meet the one? no, not that one.  or that one.  or that one.  

one day.

Paying 120K to learn that we/I don't know sh--

Shhhh.

Stop talking, please. Please stop doing.

Running around like the decapitated chickens they feed us every night.

What's with all the meetings just to prove our hearts are beating

Ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum--can you hear the love?

Yessir, loud and clear!

No sir, those aren't tears, just sweat,

Aren't I a hard little worker?

I should join this club and that club,

a fit club and a fat club,

I would too....

if they had a club for people who have no idea what club to join.

Where's the club for the emotionally conservative academic liberal?

The forgetful environmentalist and the carnivorous animal-rights activist?

Point me to the biased-even-though-I-really-try-not-to-but-just-can't-help-it-so-good-thing-I-can-fake-it club.

Where do the universal Christians, moral rebels, truthful liars, and single lovers meet?

And the pro-life choosers and the pro-death livers--is there a place for us?

For the we's with all the ambition and no clear direction,

all fuel and no car,

all road and no map.

Here we go.