June 20, 2026

the content of our content
matters less than the
clicks it amasses
and i guess i’m just too tired
to care about algorithms and
search engine optimization and
making myself into a brand or whatever

i’ve only been around thirty-some-odd years
but i feel as though i’ve lived a hundred of those
[and yet i only have the total memory of like five,
so interpret all my complaints however you will]
so i’m not going to waste my time with clickbait
and playing a game for an entity i think
could bring good
but is currently
absolutely
not

i’m not against the internet
i’m against how it’s being used and utilized
by the vulture class

[might i not actually be against capitalism, but instead
against how it’s being used and utilized
and structured and exploited
by the vulture class, too?]

[maybe at its basest definition

but capitalism has changed meanings
as it means now — accumulation of wealth for the wealthy
by feeding off consumerist culture
and the only way it stays stable is to
grow
fast
exponentially —

i’m definitely against all that.]

but a tirade against capitalism isn’t how this poem started
[that is how many of my poems end]

i’d love to be assessed for the content of my content
not the number or type or flashiness of the thumbnail

[though, in the end, we’re all left screaming into the void
and the void never ever
calls back]

February 24, 2024

sometimes
i
forget that i
am human

and i push and i roll and i run and i expect
to go and go and go
and i get so
confused when i’m tired
or exhausted
or just feel off
and even more strange is when i
take care of basic human needs
and feel
a little bit
better

like

how am i, an inhuman cryptid
a god
an entity expected
to have zero needs
feel less cranky
when i get some food in me
or have a sip of coffee
or actually get eight hours of sleep

how dare my body
betray me by being
[the normal amount of] needy

December 4, 2022

how
can i constantly feel
like a novice
in all i do?

i’ve performed all my life,
but i still feel second/
third/
fourth/fifth/sixth/
end of the line
when it comes to opportunities
for the stage/screen arts.

i’ve had six plus years in the air,
but i’m a perpetual student
here.

i’ve written
every
single
morning
poetry
for over a year and a half,
but i’m still too scared to submit,
to hear the possibility
that i’ll forever be
amateur;
living only for the love of words,
never ‘going anywhere’ with it.

and what’s so bad about that?

capitalism/colonialism/white supremacy
forces our minds to find some meaning
out of what we can produce/expert the field
in a way that makes money—
churn out content/
content/
you need to create more content…

where is the place for creating for the sake of creativity?

and why can’t i find my own balance?

i think
it’s because
i just want to feel
like i know
something.
i want to feel adept/
professional/
expert/
master/
ace/
like i don’t have to second guess every choice i make—

that’s what i want out of my crafts.