There are times when I let myself

Get carried away, because I'm too tired

To think, or stop, and wonder

About the many rights and wrongs

They're always telling you about.

I don't want to live in fear,

Or go to sleep on regrets

Because I missed out. I can't always

Steer straight, or keep my eyes

Glued to the road, every turn

Another thirty seconds of careful

Contemplation. And the people,

The ones I pick up, the ones

I leave standing by the side?

Is each really going to shape me

Into some greater human being,

Or more often than not, into

Something worse than scum?

Do I have the same unknown power

Over them? I've heard it many more

Times than I care to remember,

That no man is an island. That each

Action is part of a sequence. Even

Dwight got that right. But I

Want to stand up, I want to stand out!

I want to be recognized,

Not as the 360th degree of a circle,

But as me. A point, a blot perhaps,

But something significant,

And something whole.

And for that, what does direction matter?