Static
Telling someone how you feel never changes.
No matter how many times you do it,
what you have to say, whisper, yell
You always become a stuttering child,
Stumbling over your own words as you try and force them free,
a balloon having all the air squeezed out.
You spend days, weeks, years
Going over and over in your head what you’re going to say
Agonizing over every word, every arrangement
And right as you open your mouth,
Your mind goes blank,
Like your own language is somehow foreign now.
It all just disappears in the mental static,
Like an old CRT-TV flipped to an empty channel
The deafening mental buzz drowns it all out.
Any sense of a cohesive statement or concrete point,
Any heartfelt confession or hateful scream,
And so you do what you knew you were going to do from the start,
Just fucking wing it.
???
I like to think that I fear many things.
Death, pain, the unknown, being remembered, in some instances my father.
All normal everyday fears for me.
But are they really that normal?
Does every person go through their day to day,
Agonizing over every choice they make in the back of their head.
Will this help me survive, will I leave my mark on the world, should I really forgive him?
I honestly have no idea, I am in my head so often it’s hard to tell.
My own internal monologue is so loud I find it hard sometimes to hear others.
To empathize with them, to feel them, see them.
Sometimes I catch my hands shaking and I don’t know why.
I feel like sometimes I don’t even know how I feel.
An imposter in my own body,
A shell of a person with no center, no heart.
Just a tiny speck floating in the cold infinite space.
As of right now I don’t have an answer to any of these questions.
What it all means,
Who am I,
Who are you reading this?
I just don’t know.
So I guess I will have to get back to us on that.
Please be patient for the both of us.
What Tomorrow Brings?
We never really do know what tomorrow brings
Time doesn’t really work like that,
I mean sure we can have a general idea,
Scheduling,
Planning,
All that stuff,
But the future is something ephemeral,
Something we can only just barely grasp.
You can do as much scheming as you like,
But you will never know,
What tomorrow has to bring.
The future has a way of messing up our plans.
The unexpected always rears its ugly head.
It does not always have to be ugly
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
It is best to learn to roll with the punches.
To be aware of the future,
But to take things one day at a time.
Uncertainty is something that can be understood,
Relishing the idea of the unexpected.
That things don’t always go the way we plan,
Just makes life a bit more interesting.
Doesn’t it?
Night Time Thoughts
Understanding my own mortality is something I think about a lot
It’s that real existential fear that keeps me up at night.
What happens next?
Where do we go when we die?
Will people remember me when I am gone?
It’s that untouchable truth,
All questions we won’t have the answer to till they happen.
That shit scares me to my core
I hate the unknown, my mind doesn’t like empty boxes.
Knowledge is my shield against a dark unforgiving world.
Sometimes I’ll lay awake at night for hours
Paralyzed by thoughts of what happens after life.
Is there really some big pearly gate… some burning pit,
That waits for all of us in the end.
I don’t know, I won’t know, I can’t know.
But I guess in some way that is what life is all about.
Finding an answer that helps you sleep at night,
And making the most of the days you have now.
I won’t say I have accomplished the former yet,
But I like to think I have a pretty decent grasp on the latter.
