A vicious cycle

everything is cyclical
a vicious cycle
folding up patterns and looking down at those
the pieces scattered amongst them
looking up to wonder if any help will come
just to pick the first one
endless patterns of staying self a forward-moving self, and lost-selves in a row

where am i most able to find self?
practicing ethereality, intangibles
locked away consuming, learning, regurgitating, repeating
needing just a foothold to build the expanse you’re sure you’re worth being apart of
where am i most able to find self?

stricken by familial burden
stricken by no philosophy
im choosing the right way by not choosing the easy way, is what i tell myself and often believe
beauty is everywhere