Refusing To Ferment Poem by alexandria hacker

someone please tell me
how i got here,
in this very time and place.
perhaps my destiny
lurks in another dimension,
another century or life.
why do i find myself
so bored with reality?
so fantastically mundane?
constantly hoarding emotions
from people, and moments
that only exist within thoughts?
why does all that is real
seem of merely a thought to me?
until i am certain,
i will continue to disappoint the entirety
with uncouth demeanors.
what will become of me
as i am further persuaded
by the catalyst?
God willing, i may be dead
before i am ever born.