There Is A Vicariousness Lived

Sometimes when I awaken, I wish my mind was not so investigative. But I am too inquisitive, To assume. Those who sit and imagine their lives, And others who are living theirs... Seem to have so much time, Not to experience life. From their lips when in the exchange of gossip... There is a vicariousness lived to then embellish... Flowing nonstop to listening ears. And when I hear this it becomes hard to detect... What is real and what has been memorized, From what has been spoken by another... To then take out of context. Delusional people can make real their fantasies. Sometimes when I awaken, I wish my mind was not so investgative. But I am too inquisitive, To assume.