Testo Affordance

Will I always have this same innate impatience following me around wherever I go?
Living in impulse's personal prison, following me around wherever I go
My human nature has always had it's flaws
Impressions to steal and rob you of your own
Where a thousand pleasures never add up to compensate for one single loss
Is it in my lack of patience where most things start losing significance?
Or my lack of participation where most begin to lose their locations?
The webs we weave, outlines in white Shaping our ideas of paradise
Crossing the wires tied to my wants, so they all route the same until
I'm not sure where I'll be