thinking again

sometimes i wish i knew some more things. not about things that you can read about. just like, if i knew more things about things that people don't know about each other. that if i knew more things, i would want that. but then, if i knew more things, i don't think i would be the same person. and then i guess the things i would know would be different things. and either way, would i want to be a different person? and maybe the information would overwhelm me. most likely. and so would i really want to know more things afterall? well, probably not. most likely it is clear that i think too much. and thinking is for nonsense, for the most part.

and mostly it's muddled in my mind for the most part. and mostly it's musty and smelly and old. and mostly i mostly don't pay much attention, but sometimes something's suddenly free. like a bird that was caged monst the nonsense, and rage and the boxes of awkward uncomfortable things.