Counting Steps

C R E E P

    I was cleaning my room after letting everything sit and grow for two weeks.

I was picking up clothes off the floor when I caught a glimpse of myself in my bedroom mirror.

And I started freaking out.

What if after everything I plan to do in the future. Everything I'm trying to do, what if I'm still like this after everything? What if after the surgery, the voice drop, the shift of my entire being, what if after everything clicks it doesn't quite click?

I was hoping that maybe after everything was done then I wouldn't feel like I'm constantly being drowned by foreign fingers. Maybe I wouldn't constantly be bored with myself, feeling drawn out like chewed gum without it's flavor.

But the truth is, just because a big part of me is held down by my appearance, my mind is held down by my soul and heart.

Maybe I'm dysfunctional or something, the genetic code had a grudge against me.

Why do I feel like a ghost?

Will I always feel like this?

What's going to happen when everything I thought would help happens and I'm left with a  rotten apple, the good bits bitten off and the core left to dry out?

I guess that's the point of life, not knowing what comes next. Fear of what will happen when your plans play through.

But how will this play through when I don't even know how to play?