Benny and Bjorn speak my mind

I am not in my skin today. I am somewhere out on the periphery of who I am. I'm moving very slowly. I am heavy and contemplative and pale and sorrowful. Because this is not what I have chosen. And I grow weary of the grab-bag quality of my fate. I know that I will never feel that I have arrived. But today, I barely feel as if I am moving at all. And tomorrow is coming. Like summer and autumn and everything else. But I can't see myself in it. I can see the edges of tomorrow, but it's blank inside. I'm absent altogether. I'm frozen with one foot lifted, perpetually on the verge of a step forward that never seems to come. Like a statue in Pompeii.

Does it always have to suck?

Slipping through my fingers all the time
I try to capture every minute
The feeling in it

What happened to the wonderful adventures
The places I had planned for us to go
Well, some of that we did but most we didn't
And why I just don't know

Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture
And save it from the funny tricks of time