June 29, 2026

i’m feeling
a
type
of
way
and i don’t necessarily know
what type of way that is
but at least i know why

change
and staying the same

change is
show ending
kip starting a brand new job
[that, granted, is not in france
but still, a big change]
change is
going back to things
circus
friendships
that may have paused
while i was so damn busy
change is
fixing up the house into something i
might want to make [and perhaps film]
physical projects inside
[and make room to have it so that
kip feels at home in our home
as well/still]

and staying the same is
having a mess
as usual
and being too open for my own damn good
and not knowing how to interact in social
[and non-social] situations…
i wish there was an instruction manual for living
[but, let’s be honest, would i follow it?
or would i deem it too ‘societally normative’ and
literally and/or figuratively throw it out the window
or
or
would i want a societal manual just to decide
what is for me and what is not?
and that begs the question
even if i read
and intended
to follow, would i actually be able to
or would i still fall back into
what i know/feel best
which is how i act
and i just am who i am
and that’s all that i can be
and i needn’t be worrying myself so
about all of this?]

and the conclusion of this poem is that
change happens
and sameness happens
and there are no instructions for life because
we are all just who we are
and that is all we [probably] ever will be

and that is ok.

December 25, 2021

it’s Kipmas
we say
thirteen days
of a love language
trying not to fall into the pits
of the deep despairing depression
this time of year
usually yields

but also trying not
to avoid it;
if i need to mourn
the happiness and joy
of a home full of life
that now only seems to house
(or maybe that’s just my impression)
then that’s ok.

if i need to cry
that this year feels so weird
(especially now
that it’s actually
precedented)
and there’s such simple way(s)
for folks to avoid
overwhelming an already overburdened
healthcare system,
then that’s ok.

i’m not thinking in poetry right now,
it’s not morning
(my usual time to write)
and i’m full with Finnish food
and i feel both antsy and tired
at the same time,
itching for adventure
but longing to stay home
for (possibly) ever

this time of year
is weird
and often brings up
a whole shitload of emotions
(and these last two years more than ever)
but that’s ok.
feel your feelings,
even indulge;
too much is asked of us
at this time of year;
expectations abound
and you can take a moment
or a day
or a week
or a month
to just
sit
and
feel.

(and if i need to have a total breakdown
right as i try to post this
and instead weep for hours
and back-post it
from the 26th,
then i’ll do that, too.)

October 10, 2021

oh
no
i’m just here to
watch
observe
pacify my narrative stance
get only a glance
of the workings of humanity
then back to my hobbit-hole
to deconstruct the feelings
i observed:

there was anger
happiness
sadness
hope
the scope
of human emotion
is like a commotion
inside a cacophony
inside an explosion
and me, this entity of inquiry
cannot bear even one feel
bubbling to the top of their
chest/heart/lungs/brain
how do humans regain
control
of their larger selves
when their emotions run the show
so
constantly?

maybe
if i could name
my illogical passions
i could fashion some sort of
hocus focus
back into human-hood
but i cannot seem to seam the words together with the sensations
i simply follow the thought processes
and process
the thought
but the emotions
stay hidden
no light
just dark
so i keep looking
for the light
keep observing
the entities
who know how to emote
fully
freely
until that is me.