95 theses

i dont care because i have to not care. im 3 steps from getting back to it but im itching to turn around. i cant, its against the rules. the invisible 95 theses nailed to my head. it must be nailed not taped. so i really get to it. but its hammered in behind my head, the parietal lobe so everyone knows my decree but i don't know where i am. its like being 5, falling asleep on the drive and suddenly you're home somehow. but i cant read a definition for home. because it isnt arms, the middle of nowhere or where i ran off either. home sounds sour and foreign on my tounge as my dead name. is that my end game? to find comfort in this facade everyone seems to understand but me? do i sense it in the depths of your eyes that i swim in, hoping eye contact makes you uncomfortable. or is it just you dont understand it at all either. 23 is too young to think you're done.