consuming mind-breaking amounts of coffee,
code learning hours upon hours a day,
still continuing with Albanian language studies,
in six more months will i be 'job-ready'?
in one more year will i be speaking fluently?

gonna pause after another hour, to do yoga,
in two more years will i become a yoga teacher?

gonna write some for that cut-up zine,
in one more year will i have published my poetry?

these are the activities that drag out days like napalm
strewn across the insurgency of moments, agents activated,
just after dawn, into mid-day, dropped out before mid-night

there's a growing itch, feeling that never ends,
how time is thrown into the greater force, i have neither idea
how or why, nor from where is the delineation, the difference

it has been mentioned that the human brain computes all form

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