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]
i don’t know how to stop my kip
from staring at their phone
reading the terrible news
and feeling worse
and worse
and worse
as the hours go by
because
if left to my own devices
i would stare at my phone
and watch videos of
on the ground tragedies
and feel worse
and worse
and worse
as the hours go by
and neither of us feeling worse
will change the things happening
halfway across the world
or right in our own backyard
we need to fill our cups
and have the hope
and energy
to put forth change
that will help
others
and ourselves
but
how
how
how
when everything feels so important
and hopeless
in the palms of our
hands?
drinking coffee
to stave off depression
to stave off existentialism
to stave off the dread
that invades my very being
[but it actually helps the anxiety along
which isn’t great
so there’s that…]
how do i tell
tomorrow’s me
to just go for something
without shaming
yesterday’s me
for not?
[how?]
[how?]
[how?]
time passing
too swiftly
to get me
pumped
about any one event or even one day
i need now to look forward to
a weekend
a whole month
a big big change in scenery
[but the tiniest/
eensy weensiest/
minutest little things
still bring my whole mood
down
down
down
so what’s that about?]
it’s so astounding how beneficial
the spring is to my
general
mood
i have literally been
hopeless
and helpless
for months
and then it warms up once
and i see a couple of green buds
on a couple of tree branches
and the sunlight hits
more and more of my day
and i say
“i can do this!”
why am i so calmed
by a cat simply being
on top of me?
even before the cuddles
or the purring
just knowing
that this feline wants to be on my lap
just feeling
her little paws on my legs
my anxiety is lessened
for the moment
for the moment
the post-show let-down
is holding me in its grip
as i grasp for a way
out
i don’t know what i’m waiting for
but i’m waiting
i’m waiting
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
kipventures 