my fingers want to be busy
without input from my brain
for my mind has been doing too much time
in repetitious actions
circling points
but never quite making it to center
and my hands could do the same
but forward action
seems to actually be measurable
in physical space
and the mind is an ugly place
to obsess
about others’
imperfections
the sin of being me
is punishable
through inside and outside means
and my brain can only get so far
in forgiveness
when it’s constantly fighting against itself
and my body seems to cling to living
as it falls apart
and resolves towards innumerable lifetimes
and my soul only ever seems to
chill inside/beside
all this angst going on around and around and around
but the dark part of me
[brain?]
[heart?]
[body?]
[other?]
it keeps reminding me
that i am punishable
i should be punished
through some means
hold my beer
i’ll do it
myself
[‘if you want something done right,’
right?]
do you ever feel like
you just want to slough off your old skin
your old life
your old entire being
and start anew
in a new body
with a new brain
in a new situation
perhaps a whole new universe/
dimension/
something/
anything
i just feel
antsy
in this life
sometimes
(maybe that’s why
i am drawn towards
acting
reading
writing
the things we do
to imagine whole other lives
anew)
it’s already
the middle of the month
how does
time
go by this
much
hide in my hoodie
disappear into decades-long fiction
find a new hobby
a fresh kind of hyper-focus
and learn all of that
instead of knowing anything else
(the rest of the world is overwhelming anyway
might as well find ways
to enjoy time
here)
i don’t think
who you are when you’re stressed
is your “real true self”
nor do i believe
that it is somehow
not you at all—
i simply believe
that stressed-out-you
is another form of you,
and each individual person
has so many selves/
contains multitudes/
switches codes/personalities/dependent on the people
and situation
and personal pressures
(external and internal)
and to think that we should be
one consistent type of personality
through every sort of situational anomaly
is not giving humanity
any sort of grace
or depth
the utter delight
in my voice, eyes, and mind
as i call to an empty room
“a ghost!!!”
after the bag of dog food goes unexpectedly
splat
to the ground
(although i know
gravity had some hold
on its fall)
i don’t know if i was born
with the patience gene fully turned on
or not,
but it has developed into something
i value greatly
in myself
however
because i don’t think of it as
a core marker/
a makeup of hj/
something that’s been with me
since that first day,
i often approach it as a skill —
something that needs practice/
cultivation/
that i can’t just rely upon —
and it often surprises me
when others thank me for my patience
when i’ve been feeling
so
at the end of my rope
i wish i could conceive of a me
who was always always always
patient without strain
touch gently
[with just one fingertip]
a whole life
with patience
with care
with love
with listening
with attention
with intention
and you’ll know what it is
to be
truly
human
and alive
when you wake from sleep
and can only dream
in waking hours
of your next nap
you might be depressed
or
you might be in tech week.
kipventures 