my Fauci Ouchie
(parts one and two)
were (side-effect-ly) uneventful.
my kip’s, however,
were sore arm
and fever-reactive
(part one and part two
respectively)
and i wonder what my immune system
does
is
to make it so strong
(how for every cold/flu/illness
kip gets
i get half of them,
and even then
at half the intensity)
but at least
we are both doing our
due diligence
to not get this terrible,
horrible,
no good,
dirty,
bad
virus
that is still
technically
at loose.
i’ve been posting
diligently
for the last few weeks,
re-reading poems
from the start of this
poem-a-day-venture,
editing where they need it,
mostly surprising myself in my own confidence
and love
of my own words.
and while i haven’t told a lot of people
about this undertaking
quite yet
i’ve told a few
and that’s scary
but at least a little bit
invigorating.
and i’m trying not to write
for the purpose of being read
i’m trying to simply write
for writing’s sake.
but the purpose of this poem
this post
today’s post
is that, as of this day,
the 6th of June,
i’ve finished my backlog of posts
and am actually,
truly
posting on today.
(and i know me,
i know myself,
i know i’ll probably have a few days where i’m not feeling up to posting right away
and i’ll collect a bit of a backlog again,
but at least it won’t be
damn near two month’s worth of work
again)
and yet,
(and yet)
not having that big of a backlog
means i won’t feel this kind of
accomplishment
about this project
again…
emails won’t
write themselves
[though sometimes
the dissociation
makes it feel as though
they, in fact, do.]
sudden sillies
pop as classical radio
chatting with the spouse
singing at the spouse
dancing at the spouse
after writing/editing/posting so many things
dealing with depression
how can my goofiness
still show itself
this fiercely?
i think
i put things off
as a way to prove
that i am,
in fact,
a horrible person.
i am aware
that technically
this issue
stems directly
from depression:
‘executive dysfunction’
but that doesn’t stop me from observing myself
outside in
seeing the things i put off
the things i actually do
and making an educated guess.
and yes,
of course,
the depression absolutely affects the way(s) in which i view myself
and not only would i not have this executive dysfunction
if i didn’t have the depression
i also wouldn’t have such a low opinion of myself
but somehow i’ve decided that the two are linked
and that the effect is the cause, and the cause is the effect
because i can’t just see it as simple brain chemistry,
a result of this battle that’s been raging
in my brain
for years
that would be too easy
too simple
and it takes the blame off of my choices and actions
it puts those things out of my control
and if there’s one thing i have more of
than depression/anxiety
it’s control issues
so
instead
i’ve decided
that my executive dysfunction is not this ‘hard-to-quantify
direct mis-firing of neurons
in my brain’,
but instead it stems from my self-esteem
and my desire to be a good person
but ‘knowing’
deep down
that i am the actual worst
my worthlessness showing up
in my inactions
and that way i can blame my depression
as well as my whole sense of self.
i’ve now been writing for a little more than a month and a half
and i just started posting like a week ago
it’s definitely given me a perspective
i didn’t expect…
confidence
in old poems
re-reading large poems
with big concepts
assuming i’d need to edit/adjust/revise
before wanting to post them
but feeling like they are whole
already.
i still don’t know what this actually means
for my skills
in poem-making,
if i’m still stuck in the black and white view of
good or bad
first draft comes from the heart/soul/gut
so any changes will be disingenuous
so just post it
as is
(but
what if
i’m not unlocking
my true potential from
within)
(or
am i simply
avoiding
what i know will turn into
obsessive
obsession
for making it perfect
when poetry
thrives
in
imperfection?)
~~~
is there another poem inside me
today
this morning
is there something else i need to get out
another concept to contemplate
another topic to purge from my soul
another thought, barely formed, scratching at the corners of my mind?
really
what i’m thinking this morning
is
it’s so dreary out
and i have so much to do
and my head hurts like crazy
and all my body wants to do is nap
and all i want to do is find any motivation
anything
at all.
~~~
and yet
(and yet)
i’m actually super stoked about posting?!?!
language(s),
culture(s),
french has my heart
(le français a mon cœur)
but spanish…
spanish would be smarter
spanish would be more useable
(spanish isn’t really that far from the other languages i’ve studied
so it’s not completely foreign,
though i do find myself speaking it like french,
pronouncing (or not pronouncing) half the words
nasally
throatily)
but why is this another case of
all or nothing
black or white
why do i feel like i have to get
completely
fully
100% fluent
in french
before i can even start to study another language?
(i’ve already traveled to spanish-speaking countries,
even after a few months of [re]studying the language,
and still spent most of my time caught with one word
in a fully thought out spanish sentence
stuck in french.
what is extra study in french
really
going to do?)
(other than getting me stuck
more?
)
just remember, folx,
in this epoch of rainbow capitalism
that wearing your Pride is encouraging,
exciting,
exceptional,
try (if you can) to buy queer-made
so that our money funds our community,
and so that the big businesses know
they can’t obfuscate our memories
with shiny color spectrums;
we remember when they funded hate speech against us,
(and we know they have never formally apologized,
just realized they could take our money as well as our humanity
at the same damn time),
and we know the true meaning of Pride
is against the man
against the machine
against the culture of conformity.
our ancestors fought hard fights
for us to live out loud today.
let us honor their memories
by fucking with the system
that holds anyone down.
did some things
yesterday
this morning
just now
will continue to do things
as the day goes by
(a nice thing about holidays
when you’re still placing caution
from The Virus™
before familial or friendship
hangouts)
and the accomplishments
of cleaning
and organizing
can breathe new life
into this small box
and make it
more like
home.
due dates
coming up
deadlines
when are they?
i feel in my gut
june 1st
(but also
maybe
may 30?)
the problem with thinking
“maybe apply to this,
maybe not…”
is that i don’t have a solid
“do this by this time”
i just have a vague
reminiscence
idea
memory
of a date and a thing
and nothing solid
(and nothing gets applied,
because i can never remember
any
specifics)
~~~
there are still poems swirling around in my head
that i feel i should make something out of
this storm in my psyche
but even when i write it out
the tempest is still there
and does that mean i’m never actually done pondering that subject matter
or does it mean that i can’t get everything into a poem that i could in prose
or does it mean that i’ll never ever capture my thoughts fully into words?
~~~
clean up
post
transform to lower case
post
read over quickly
post
decision
post
decision
post
decision
post
(is the posting taking the fun out of poetry?)
(or at least the honesty?)
kipventures 