where I start

echoes whistle executive dysfunction, lacking motivation, awaiting inspiration. solve for x.

i'd begin by addressing overwhelm, seeking relief, and kick up my feet, to the echoes that seek me. endlessly free.

not naturally do we linger like we digitally do. what fails to develop is what doesn't continue reverberating. can we resist to inspire ourselves by persisting?

mechanics of a hero: one who sleeps on their merits. the communal efforts cultivate all we share in absence.

so where did i go? am i all alone? did i forget something? was this meant to echo?

nothing never stained ever remained. what scraps of pain have we retained? have we sustained? have we restrained?

everything may, in fact, finally fall into place.

left intact, crawling cracks learn how to race.

right as that sense of correct slips off track,

outlines inspect engravings caught in the act.

so now it comes back to you, as i find my hands here, from time, and then again, friend, i find you too.