where want goes

what I wanted out of wanting.

there of course was a scheme of happening next.

a peer into a scan, 

into something for recognition's grasp.

something for the mind to story about,

as inner sound acoustics 

for emotional all ears-soul to hear.

a rejoice of ascension within to occur.

where want lays claim as approval met.

where an ambient vibratory secretion goes out

across the nervous system, 

in an expansion to include. 

and there is a settled into being appeased.

that's what I wanted of out wanting.

but how do I deal with that of me

that wants want?

where are they coming from?

like an editor of the narrative,

there is nothing simple about their existence.

they of me have a perspective beyond simple living.

they of me want perspective and control.

they of me are gaming me,

as if they of me is beyond the livingness.

they of me are in it for the game and the show.

they of me are movie rights, 

sequels, alternate options, 

un-statable aftereffects, aftermaths redirected. 

I am a pawn to myself unkindly.

when did 'I want' graduate 

into such a dualistic layering?

was this innocence lost by living on?

do we become characters of ourselves

in that we become?

it seems self-consciousness teamed up

with a self of otherwise operational means.

I don't go where I want,

but now I take myself where I want to go.

how did this happen?

it's like I invented parenting the child of me.

like I can't have the joys of being

but I can take that person 

where it needs to go, 

to have those innocent experiences

and be along to appreciate the ride.

I have become a narrative director

of my own.

but I am not sure I have the joy of joy

or the pleasure of pleasure.

to some degree

it has been made clear

that experience is overrated. 

and so I observe from afar that is within,

as if it is an untold documentary 

but spoken as script delivery in every scene.

I guess I have a career as being a person.

and I am left to wonder,

what does retirement really look like? . . .