wanting

January 18, 2026

/ HJ / Leave a comment

i want to hypnotize myself
into actually trying
full out
when i want something

rather than shooting myself in the foot/
ripping the rug right out from under me/
doing other things to ruin my chances

because…why?

because i somehow still believe i don’t deserve good things?

because i’m scared to committing to one thing
and believe that means i’m cutting off options
for any other possibility in my potential life?

because i am still not convinced that all of this is really real?

those are all terrible reasons

and i still can’t convince myself
with my conscious/logic brain
to make my subconsciousness
stop destroying all my chances

[that’s why i need so many
non-pressurized hobbies —
because the minute they matter
i
implode
]

January 3, 2026

/ HJ / Leave a comment

i sit here
pining and whining
and wishing and wanting
to call myself
a writer

and i know
i know
my goodness i know
that i am a writer
as soon as i write
and i sit down every morning
and compose poem
after poem
after poem

but this desire is different

i want to create whole worlds with
the tip of my finger/pen/brain
i want to carry an audience on
a whole-ass journey and lead them
from beginning
to middle
to end

what i’m saying is

i wish to write prose
story
script
screenplay
novel
novella
creative essay
anything
i could even do it in poetry
if it felt right
but all i write
are these tiny windows into my own soul
and morning
while day
and night
i have epics unfolding inside me
and the minute i dedicate
a minute
or hour
or day
to getting it down
on paper/document/screen/anything
my skill with words seems
so
elementary
so
amateurish
so
trying too hard and getting not far at all
and i give up after
a page
a paragraph
a word

but the want

it remains

December 15, 2025

/ HJ / Leave a comment

i should have known
i’d swing the far reaches of the pendulum
the opposite way

going from
‘everyone must know my name
or i’m an ultimate failure’
to
‘if i’m known, my peace is unprotected;
and i’d rather stay at home and be safe’

[i suppose it’s not the wildest swing
known to humankind
but it sure does feel…
extreme]

December 8, 2025

/ HJ / Leave a comment

kip playing with music
a whole set up here at our
kitchen table

and something in me wants to create

is it music?
am i ready to hear my own voice
echoing back from me
via vocoder at least?

or am i more in the physical scheme
and want to cut and trim and sew and see
what kind of creation i can make with
my own two hands

or am i finally ready to write that book
i’ve been threatening to write
forever and a half

or is it the video series
or a play
or silly skits
on social media
[probably not that last one
if my mental health is any key
or indication, having done so well
these past few months
without
that curse looming over me
via my phone…]

[who knows]
[who knows]

December 3, 2025

/ HJ / Leave a comment

sitting down to write
and not feeling the immediate
“i have to eat”
“i have to use the restroom”
“i have to do anything other than
write right now”
and i don’t know what to do with that
how to use it —
all the possibilities are before me
spread out
mapped and tangled and crumpled from
viewing but disuse
and i simply want to write
something
something
something
to make myself feel
like i’ve used my
one wild and wonderful brain

November 24, 2025

/ HJ / Leave a comment

constantly feeling on a precipice

of the world burning

of my own superstardom

of our own government disintegrating

of my writing something inviting and entrancing
to my own
senses

but i think,
at least for my own cliffs’ edges,
i cannot wait for the feeling of falling —
i need to just
jump

October 28, 2025

/ HJ / Leave a comment

i have such a mind for some kind of
metaphorical simile-esque allegorical writing
right now, but the actual writing brain
isn’t really thinking at the moment, so i
suppose i’ll just take down my desires and
re-evaluate in the morning
[or the next morning]
[or the next next morning]

August 15, 2025

/ HJ / Leave a comment

do i have writer’s block
or does writer’s block have me
in a chokehold
from which i’ll never be released

do i have writer’s block
or is writer’s block my best frenemy
stalking me
fighting
and making up
and i keep them around for…
…for what?

do i have writer’s block
or is my whole life a lie
based on wanting to write
but never knowing how or when or why
or even if i really should
so i just
rush back
into writer’s block’s arms

do i have writer’s block
or are these excuses
to keep me from writing out
my whole soul?

July 22, 2025

/ HJ / Leave a comment

j’ai espère que
je pouvais penser
en français

i’m fairly certain that is incorrect
damn close to gibberish
but the sentiment still stands

i wish i wish i wish
i could think
in french

maybe i could understand and speak it better
then

[was french the language my Mom studied in school?]
[could we have practiced together
if life didn’t suck so hard
in 2001?]