No time for creativity

Sometimes i feel as though the easiest thing to do is also the hardest.
i am not myself but perhaps i am more myself than ever before.
i miss people but i am so easily and willingly detached from them.

So I ponder the latest un-original thought and try to pass it off as my ingenuity.
careless, i trample over dreams and delights of others to satisfy a selfish desire.
Wrapped; both delicatly and tightly, up in me.
I would like to think better of myself but, I am thief, unworthy.
I take without contributing and waste more than I use.
But not to you, though. I am not these things at all.
I come accepting this need as oppossed to my ever present want.
For oddly my desire is the same as yours but I only go about it in the wrong and disgraceful manner.
You go about the same want but you chase it on an upright and just path.
if it were not for the upright and just path you were able to follow I would've had nothing to strive for.
which makes the path i follow seem dark and disgusting.
the path you follow seems easy, is it really that easy or have you been practicing on it for a long enough time.
because there were things that i was once good at but i had practiced them for a very long time. But now they seem gray and faded and worthless to me now. What a waste.
To see those things now as boring and pointless would have astonished the younger me.
Vanity and pride are not just things inside they're there for anyone who chooses to see.
I have a problem and it is evident to me now. hollow shell break, and let me free to know and experience things previously unknown and give way so that legs now made limber can dance a different dance unseen by anyone before.