Sometimes I think about changing everything in my life, everything about myself.
Change what I wear, change what I like, how I talk, what I do.
Sometimes I think about change.
Change my hair color, the car I drive, my job, bank accounts, change majors, change planes, change cloths, exchange, changeable, changeling.
Sometimes I think about change. Change direction, change lives.
Would the change bring ease?
Would the change bring contentment?
Maybe I’m already changing? Always changing?
Changing into ugliness, nothingness.
Changing. Digressing. Regressing.
Is change bad? All bad?