I May be on the Wrong Path

Do you think kids
still try to avoid
riding the bus these days?

Do you think they
forget to set their alarms,
poke around in the bathroom,
avoid eating breakfast or wearing
a jacket?

I wonder.

++++++++

I pretty much flipped last night:
while writing in my journal
I began with the lone, desperate howl:

"How did I get _here_?"

I wrote for a few pages,
depressed myself further and stopped.
Bored, I flipped through the back logs--only to find this entry:

Monday, December 9th, 2002
"[. . .]How many times will I ask,
how did I get here?"

I freaked.

I flipped through all of my
first-week-of-December entries:
they all held pretty much the same thoughts.
Then I usually skip out until January.

Does this mean I can interpret the future???

No; seriously, listen:

If I run in such horribly obvious cycles,
perhaps I can crack the code?

Perhaps I can study this journal,
as me, myself, right now,
figure out her next move
and head her off at the past?

Before she self-destructs--
or does something even more stupid
(like absolutely nothing at all)
sound like a plan?

Maybe I can even change my life.