Other People's Dishes

You moved out with the kite-high ideals, but you’re pulled back on a shoestring by silly, silly stresses and pettiest of petty messes. And you can’t sleep at night because the radio’s on, over and over, again and again. Living large, doing other people’s dishes. You wash it all down the drain while the night sky looks so expansive. Expansive and promising, but vast and scary. Things get worse when you think they should be getting better. This world’s so breathtaking with it’s insane beauty, but you feel like you’ve been punched in the stomach by the repercussions of the lack of discussion. Wide open, Orion is beckoning.