i just want to run around in a field
or forest
without having to worry
about taxes
or dinners
or interpersonal relationships
except for those i create in my mind
where is my idyllic adulthood?
Month: March 2025
March 20, 2025
i
often listen to podcasts
[more often than not]
and some of them i cannot stand
until and unless
they are sped
up
up
and away i run, blocking out my own thoughts
with speeds set to
increase
my own
anxieties
but when i slow down
and try
[i do try]
to listen at a show’s natural pace,
i find my heart pounding
waiting
each millisecond
for the next sound to be heard
like my own brain and body
accrue more anxiety
from normalness
and anticipation
than from the sped-up versions
of life
so
do i live in the moments
between moments
where time seems to extend
ad-infinitum
and unbearably so,
or do i continue to block out intuitions
and worry that my life
is speeding past my eyes
at an unrecognizable rate?
i don’t know
i don’t know
March 19, 2025
pain
and depression
are linked for me,
for i can stand
a great deal of each
but the moment it/i reach
a breaking point
a moment when the pain is too unbearable
a moment when my thoughts get too dark
even for my somber self,
a moment when i feel at the brink of too muchness
and nothingness
that is exactly when the physical and mental pain
fades
and i am left feeling so silly
for wondering if
now
was the moment i’d give in
and just
die
March 18, 2025
faces of power
masking the faceless doing the dirty work
because a soldier could be found guilty
in a tribunal of war crimes
but apparently orange cheetos
and their sidekicks
are never going to face any
consequences
March 17, 2025
i wish i wish i wish
i could make consumerism
and capitalism
truly passé
just from saying so
in a poem only i will probably see
perhaps it is so
for me
and i can spread it outwards
from my words and experiences
into my daily life and conversations
and someday
i’ll have helped
make it so
March 16, 2025
one of the best poems i ever read
was a poem that insisted
it was not
a poem
and if that’s not a metaphor for something
then i’m not some kind of a poet
March 15, 2025
i used to feel constantly
at a precipice —
like i was about to find
what my life was always meant to be —
like i just needed to hit one moment
or gain one good habit
or speak to one person
and my life would finally
finally
finally begin —
like i was gazing over the edge of a roller coaster
stuck at the highest hill
staring down into the unknown
i still feel very precipice-y
but lately i’ve been sitting back into my seat
and i cannot tell
if i’m finally starting to enjoy staring at the sky
instead of all the expectations below the ride,
or if i’m now trying
to push my weight
backwards
away from this precipice i’m approaching…
March 14, 2025
so much happened yesterday
and i
didn’t even poem about it
[yet]
~~~
{trigger warning: suicidal ideation, mention of eating disorders}
my overanalytic brain
that runs through every possibility
that made a whole “pro & con” list
on which eating disorder
to give myself
is probably the same thing
that has saved me
from actually killing myself
every time i’ve gotten close
in these
ideations
~~~
distracted
and distractable
and not what i wanted
from my day at home
preparing to do things
i should be doing
should have done
days
weeks
months
ago
but am i just going to
nap
again
until it’s time to leave
again?
again?
again?
March 13, 2025
prioritize stories
instead of
impressions
[or something]
March 12, 2025
i really don’t know
what i should be doing
when all is in limbo
and my mind flails out for
something
anything to do —
if i should be going out for roles
clearing out those spiderwebs and
putting my acting brain to task
if i should be writing more
and speaking up against power
with the words my fingertips
help me find
morning after morning after morning
if i should be using my body
in the ways i’ve learned
so recently — power in muscles
consistently picking up my own bodyweight
for fun
for art
for staying fit
in imminent societal collapse
but when i can’t figure out what i should do
i tend to mend things that need mending;
i darn my own and my spouse’s socks,
i close up a hole the puppy has torn in her
cheaply-made and roughly-loved toy,
i patch up jeans
and other pants,
and make art out of scraps,
and maybe that’s the “should” in all this
uncertainty —
make sure we
are not as beholden to consumerism
as we very well could be
kipventures 