November 8, 2021

there are so many facets of myself
that i wish were truly true
i want to be the tragic ending,
the too good for this world
the died much too young,
and i want to be the puck
the trickster
the bringer of chaos and of all unknowns,
and i want to live long long long,
and i want to be arson
and i want to be fairy
and i want to be cryptid
and i want to be house spouse
and i want to be parent
and i want to be cool aunt/uncle
and i want to be chestless
and i want to float between and above and around and absent and outside of…

but if i’m to believe Rain, what we do is truly part of us,
so does that extend to the wants as well?

November 7, 2021

i have so many
Interests
so many
Desires
so many
Hopes and Dreams and Plans and Futures
and i get stuck thinking
about
how
i’ll probably never accomplish them all
simply because a human life
is only so long
(and i’m cursed with needing that full 7-8 hours of sleep to function)
but still…
if i keep spending all my time
Worrying
and
Mourning
something
not yet lost
i’ll never even accomplish one of my desires,
will i?

(this poem is post-titled:
Just Try To Get An Agent And/Or Release Your Podcast Already!)

November 5, 2021

the wintertime
arrival
puts me in a mood of
hibernation
and i know so much can be done
in the colder months
but
i get so
quietly
sad
that it feels disingenuous to commit to anything

no class
no meetings
no future plans
no trips
none

but i know
it’s better for my
mental health
to continue
as if
the changing seasons didn’t immediately crush my soul,
but my joy
is often found
running around outside
(especially at night
when the rays of the sun
cannot find my shockingly pale skin)
but the nighttime now
is the coldest there is
and the daytime
offers only shreds of warmth
in the very sun i tried all summer to avoid
and it all just feels like
too much planning
and i’m better off
hiding
away from the sun
and cold
and snow
and “jolly” holiday times
(which hold in them more trauma than simple physical discomfort)
in a cozy home
with a cat on my lap
and a dog on the couch
and no to-do list on my screen
and simply imagine that i will get all my wishes and goals and hopes and dreams
accomplished
next year
(when it’s warm again…)

November 4, 2021

to observe
without thinking to oneself
‘i am observing’

to react
without thinking to oneself
‘i am reacting’

to live life
without thinking to oneself
‘i am living’

these are the challenges,
the paradoxes,
of being an actor.

November 3, 2021

coffee
is the most important meal of the day
coffee
brings me joy in an otherwise too dark/too cold portion of the morning
coffee
is the time i get to spend with my spouse, writing in parallel, making up words and worlds right beside each other.
coffee.

November 1, 2021

November
my birth month
November
the start of the race to the end of the year
November
the beginning of chilly weather without the distraction of spookiness
November
this time last year
i started a novel
and succeeded in writing a bunch
of it
every
single
day.

will i succeed again?