run on sentences are my specialty

and i spend so much time trying to discern what is true & what isn't & what this life is for & why. & how we spend our time & how nature can be so alive & how we can just miss it. & do i need an ayurvedic guru too? to tell me i'm on my correct karmic path? & is it okay to let myself fall deeper in love with you & is it even real or does it just feel good? & isn't that the point of drugs? to take you away on a blissful journey that is sort of rooted in reality but at the same time completely outside of it. & so of course i could confuse what feels good with what is good. & all i want to do is spend my time writing & asking people what they think of the world. & of their life. no, i mean what they really think. the unabridged, un-accepted by society, ugly truth of it all. i want your opinion, & yours, & really it doesn't even matter does it, but at least we're talking to each other instead of through our phones & that must count for something. 

and i wish it were acceptable to shake hands, introduce yourself, & ask: "have you ever been in love? what did it teach you?" & do you believe in god, and why, & what do you think about past lives? & what do you think you're meant to do in this life & do you think it will make an impact? & who do you hope to become & do you want to raise a child & are you gathering or scattering? because we all either pull people in or push them out & i want more people, & more. so close around me. playing music, cooking over a fire, sharing the things they'd never thought they'd say out loud, offering their most protected recipes, loving each others' children, wondering about politics and how we all are going to get through. & i'll always wonder what you're listening to and if it feels good or if it hurts. & i'm always analyzing the why & the how because somewhere, somehow deep down, i still believe there is a formula & surely if i follow it, everything will fall into place & i'll realize exactly where i fit & exactly who i'm meant to be in this life. 

& i know i'm not the only one thinking these thoughts because i read that when Tolstoy was younger he wrote in his journal:
i am 24 years old & i still have done nothing...i am sure it's not for nothing that i am struggling with all my doubts and passions for the past 8 years. but what am i destined for? only time will tell.

& on that, Jedediah Jenkins echoed: 
i know it was not for nothing, but what, i didn't know. i just knew it was somewhere in me, & i needed travel to shake it out. i needed to see different things to remind me what i was, in contrast to what i already knew. to see clearly what i had become.

& maybe we're all just out here wondering the same things year after year, decade after decade, century after century. our real thoughts written on napkins, and in song lyrics, and in poetry on the side of the road. yet, what comes out of our mouths is: "what do you do for a living?"

and it's almost a full moon 
i'll be looking up at it, thinking of you 
and i'll wonder how many more people i'll meet that will feel like i've known them before this life.

tell me your dreams and i'll tell you mine