on and on and on

Sometimes in the tangle of vines I think I'll finally be lost.
It's a relief to be honest, to be tangled beyond further movement.
Sometimes, I guess I almost want to be caught in a net.
You know that moment when someone's head hit's a wall in a film.
And the scene changes, and there is a palpable sense of finality, of release.
fuck, I don't know. Some Times. i just want to move on.
Even if I can't be included in what follows.