just writing
quick morning words
and then back to working
on the thing i should have started
a month ago
but alas
the maybeHD
and procrastinatory tendencies
make it so
in this week
before the event
this is when my creativity
actually explodes
quiet the mind
just enough to hear the important thoughts/
the creative thoughts/
the thoughts that are often drowned out
by anxiety rambling
and existential depression blues
there may be creative moments
inside those diatribes
but i’ve heard enough of them to know —
it’s getting past them
that the true me
lies
[in truth]
letting myself
not see signs
everywhere
[in a life
absolutely inundated
with overwhelming coincidence]
trying to writing
to finish the thinking
to begin the day
and continuing
and continuing
starting
from finishing
from ending —
a beginning
i still think it’s so interesting
that one of my absolute favorite genres
of music is 8-bit video-game music
[whether or not it’s remixed in some cool way]
even though i was not
at all
a gamer growing up
and even now
i
barely game
at all
gibberish poems
can become
gibberish songs
which may be
exactly what i need to do
in order to stop me
from overanalyzing
and overjudging
and overscrutinizing
my own creativity
literally
nothing
is set in stone
even stone is ephemeral
everything passes by
the sky wasn’t the sky
before there was a planet to help hold it in
and even the stars have beginnings and endings
so the rules we all have made up
for gender
for money
for even morality
nothing
nothing
nothing
is solid
we are all flowing through —
visitors to reality
let’s treat ourselves like guests
and stop trying to make our rules stick
to a place that will never ever ever have
anything
to stick to
there is a genre
of media and music and story
where the off-putting shift
from our reality
to something similar
but not quite what we’re used to
is put forth as a sort of comfort
along with being
unsettling
and that is my absolute niche
[but i’d like to create as well as imbibe
sometime
soon]
i have no idea
what time is even
doing
i’m passing my days by
sliding past them
as they slip past me
we barely wave to each other
and a new day is by my side
[and the whole play
plays out again]
hiding
or fighting
a fascist dictatorship
a takeover of/from
what once called itself
the paradigm of democracy
and we the people
somehow
voted this power-monger in
[though, with wealth, it’s easy enough
to turn the tides of an election
with tactics on either side
of the line of
voter fraud]
but what do we do
when our numbers mean so little
against media takeovers and social distractions
and virtue signaling and in-fighting?
a revolution is at hand
but the powerful seem to have control
over literally everything
[we’ve been here before —
we, as a species —
perhaps the technology is new,
but i’m certain
i’m certain
the despair and feeling of powerlessness
has all happened
and will all happen
again
and again
and again and again and again
because humans hunger for power
almost as much as they hunger for community
it’s just
will we learn
from our past
or not?]
kipventures 