feeling like i just want to fall asleep
and stay asleep
at any given moment
of any given day
and is it depression?
is it the exhaustion of an
active allergic reaction?
am i just a little bit less
energetic
than the average
person?
could it be something i’m not even thinking of
yet?
or do i just want to spend my days lost in my own imagination land?
[and
could i bring that imagination
into my own waking
writing
life
sometime?
soon?
please?]
i wish i could just
relax into knowing
i know something
but instead the anxiety decides
to show up right at that moment
and “release” me from feeling
good about
anything
and instead
i feel
stupid/foolish/in over my head/a fraud
a straight up, full on imposter
how will i ever feel
like i’ve achieved
anything
if this is what my brain chemistry
does to me
every
single
time?
two panic attacks
[or something like them]
in one month
after years of fair avoidance
i cannot tell if something is
going on
inside me
or if it simply the strain
of the external forces
of the world i cannot control
[but still affects us all]
or maybe
maybe
it’s the strain of january
of winter
when i can never see the light of spring
at the end of the proverbial
tunnel
just give me one crocus blossom
one sprig of green
not these mountains of slush-snow
and lows below zero overnight
i need something
something
something to keep me going
this has been the longest january i’ve seen
since wisconsin
i want to hypnotize myself
into actually trying
full out
when i want something
rather than shooting myself in the foot/
ripping the rug right out from under me/
doing other things to ruin my chances
because…why?
because i somehow still believe i don’t deserve good things?
because i’m scared to committing to one thing
and believe that means i’m cutting off options
for any other possibility in my potential life?
because i am still not convinced that all of this is really real?
those are all terrible reasons
and i still can’t convince myself
with my conscious/logic brain
to make my subconsciousness
stop destroying all my chances
[that’s why i need so many
non-pressurized hobbies —
because the minute they matter
i
implode
]
december is really hitting me like
a ton of bricks
being transformed quickly into feathers
[i still have some bruises, and some pokes,
but all in all it’s the suffocating stuffing that’s
hitting me rather than the pounding of existential pressure, so
at least that’s…
different]
is it just last night’s sleep?
is it something in the air?
is it an allergy?
is it the depression?
or is it the actual date of today
that’s making me feel
this
type
of
way?
it is december
it is december
i’m allowing myself these
twenty-five to thirty-one days
of holiday feeling
[perhaps it’s a mistake,
but,
in nyc i believe
i am not beholden to old memories —
this city makes new ones all the time
and i can learn from all of that
and all of those
and have an nyc holiday season
instead of suffering from memories
of midwest christmases
long since passed]
i got
a sudden sad
yesterday
appearing out of
[seemingly]
nowhere, bubbling up to my eyes
hot with unexpected tears
all of a sudden
filling
overflowing
dripping down my
sad sad face
as i searched for something
to take the pain even slightly
away
and my kip was there to hold me
[the only thing that ever truly helps]
and jiggle/wiggle me around
to make me laugh some of the tears away
and the puppy was there to nuzzle into my face
and dry up the dripped tears with her fur
and the cat was there
to confuse my sadness away
when she tried to lick the inside of my
recently emptied coffee mug
but later
kip was on the couch
slowly melting to prone
as the weight of the news
read from the phone
crushed them down
gravity invading their bones
until they couldn’t move anymore
and i had used up all my personal stock of
any sort of ‘light at the end of the
fascist
tunnel’ feeling to wipe my eyes
and continue the laundry that needed
to be done,
so i couldn’t be there for my kip
as they had just been there for me
experiencing the same sadness
i had just
felt
this is a horrible timeline
why can’t people
[in power]
just
be
kind?
what is this
existential nihilism that gossip gives me?
like the minute i’m not
part of the story
and instead invested in the lives of others
my own becomes ghosted
to the point of fading
out from the prime material plane
what use is my spirit
if the flame of my life
heats no one else’s hands?
[these are some silly metaphors
and even sillier phrasing for
a moment today when i experienced
true surprise at my own dealing]
i tried so hard to keep up with the news
and the world
i really did
and it impacted my mental health
so hard
i could hardly stand it
it was like i had leapt off a pier
and dove headfirst into the
first bad mood my body could find
and i know i should be more aware of the world around me
i know this
i do
but sometimes
sometimes
i think my reason for being here
is to have the impact of utter kindness,
and i don’t know if i can do that
if i know how cruel the world really is
i already know
logically
i already know
hypothetically
but if i avoid knowing the real reality
perhaps i can be kind to someone
who might have been mean to me
and perhaps change their brain chemistry
for the better
[but if i knew to avoid
their face/their clothes/their demeanor
would that not increase the division between us?]
[or is it only my people
my kinds of folks
who need my kindness
now?]
[i honestly don’t know…]
kipventures 