The First Person [In Third Person]

Time to wander on down again.
Walk out of that place and then

Seems like my first person narrative is working again.
It follows me whether I will it or not,
Keeping me from silence
While enforcing it on my face.

He babbles and burbles
Little splashes of pointless thought

Like paints....

Like the brook that runs at my side
Enforced landscaping, beautiful
Clogged because it somehow isn't right.

Take a little jump, he says
Marvel at the yellow there
Listen to the sound of your own footsteps.
Is that someone you know? Or over here?

You look stressed, friend
Nervous, tense, worried
Those words don't seem to catch the
Crossed up-posture, down to the knees
Bouncing foot, shaking pen, nodding head
Bent into yourself over notes and your classwork
What test makes you like this?
The test is probably the least of it.
And I know he's just like me.

Then there's the world.
Look at the people passing you around.
Wait, already here? How did I......
I phase between worlds
My imaginary world
And the real one

Little distinction between

Oh pretentious me.
There is no real world.
Exactly!

It's pretentious and impossible
Because
There're more than 6 billion separate worlds
Just wandering around the planet
How could any one of them be real?
There simply is no real world.

We just want to believe
there's something outside
We just know what's inside
Can't be real.

First person narrative seems to be working again.
Not sure I like his story when it's so bright

Who might he sound like today?
Try to steer him one way?

Yeah right.

He's the voice of a world I'm writing

Like some lost demigod

So old no one knows his name

Though not the only one,

He's Creator, all the same.