yes, it’s a real struggle for me in reality. i think i’m just wired to want out—not in a suicidal way, necessarily, but in a shift-in-perception way. in a relief from self way. i’m always looking for secret vehicles and passageways out. sometimes the vehicles are dangerous, or like i get hooked on the vehicle itself. i attribute the feeling of escape or pleasure to a particular vehicle, rather than the destination or something that already exists somewhere within myself, and kind of move into the backseat. i forget that there are other vehicles or life outside it. but poetry is one way of getting out of myself that has never hurt me. it can be slower than the other vehicles, but it is very powerful.