One of the One

Oh, you're just tired.

Whenever you blame others 
you're only blaming yourself.

When you have all these creations
Sometimes you lost track of them

You worry you might not devote enough attentions
evenly to all of them
you're afraid indeed


Sometimes you wonder if you have the right to "cleanse" them
when they utterly lose control
into tragic destruction...



That's why you need time to edit all of these

the universe, the cosmos

your work of invention

a piece of duration

a song, music, image, literature

a movie, a film, a video, an animation

that's where lay your thoughts and intentions

endless cerebration



"I'm everywhere"

you think

You needed conditions

restriction

You chose to forget

and dive into countless coordinates

called "time" or "dreams"

self-dividedly

One of you, this me

here poundering




"...Well since I probably know most of it 

I guess there's not much left for me to ruminate, uh?"


by "rumination" I think it means uncertainty and confusion

the remains would be trivium

and my own tolerance.

I wish myself a life of improvisation

just like any strand of your innovations.