stress
and apprehension
and it not feeling like
an actual opening
and the stories we tell ourselves
about ourselves
when i tell myself these stories
it’s to try to solidify
who i am
because i have no idea
i have no plan
~~~
does one good line
make a poem?
is this my style/my curse?
~~~
my poems are making little to no sense to me
this morning
but i’m still writing them
i’m still dilligently typing
words and phrases as they come
hoping to find some meaning
some
time
soon
maybe don’t concentrate on morning pages
[though it is still morning
and we are on break now
officially now]
horrendous
i don’t know where i’m going
horrendous
i don’t know what i’m doing
horrendous
anyone expecting expectations from humans
when humanity is doing
this
oh no
oh no
i have
the stress anxiety
thoughts of impropriety
about everything i could be doing
but am not
or even the things
i literally cannot
i’m stressed
my stomach a mess
and nothing will settle
me down
why is it that
when i am beginning to be social
on the social medias
i get so panicked and stressed and scared?
is the internet —
particularly the portion
with people one already knows —
really that frightful?
what a day
was yesterday —
a covid kip/
a power outage
lasting hours
[so no regular morning things]/
many calls and stresses/
and finally, the dreaded mri
[but not before getting poked and prodded
and hurt and pained
and bruised]
and, of course, a target run
for my sickkip
but now
now
today
this morning
at this moment
things
are back
to
[relative]
normal
focus
focus
focus
write the poems
and don’t get distracted
by the music
or the artwork
or the potential bagels
arriving
anytime
soon
focus
focus
focus
don’t be taken in by
the coffee beside you
or the potential trips
all coming up
or the gig
later today
or the stress
slowly
approaching
encroaching
focus
focus
focus
you just need 300 words
it’s not that difficult
it’s not that hard
it’s not a means to an end
but instead
a means to
a beginning
cedar point
as a child
was filled with rides
and adventures
and activities
and waiting in lines
and hoping for tallness
and once in a summer opportunities
so you’d better make the
most of it
cedar point
as an adult
is filled with rides
and adventure
and autonomy
and vibes
and loving the ambiance
of spooky season
and only going once every few years
or even less
so you’d better not put too much pressure on yourself
or you won’t have
fun
[and somehow that lessens
the pressure
a ton]
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 need to control
to know
to make the flow go
where you want it to
go
can only end in
disaster
you will know what you are in charge of
you will know what you can accomplish and cannot
you will know where your limitations are
where your knowledge leaves off
where your expertise
ends
let other people
know
decide
flounder if floundering is needed
(because sometimes to succeed
the floundering really is what’s needed)
if they are the ones in charge
then they are the ones who should take charge
and you
stay in your lane
merge if merging is asked of you
but only if you
can
do
the rest is left to the universe
when
in the course of
all my human events
will stress
and depression
take a back seat
and happiness come
to the forefront
of my
story?
kipventures 