Addie P Abbott | Adolfus

(@ItsAdolfus)

(Prequel to the Poem Below)

Outside Main Reception – University Building Mid March 3:00pm (enter best friend) ***

“So how’s it going bro? It’s been a couple weeks now isn’t it? ”

Yeah.. …

…

Yeah

…

You know how, like when I said I went up to her and I was all like “ Here We Go Again”

“yeah …”

well…

“for fucks sake come on man….”

Okk so yeah, like, I never actually had the courage to bring it up. Look I don’t know G… I could just tell she wasn’t into it… Like, you know when you know?

……

Don’t look at me that way man I mean SO WHAT!! In this day and age people always pretend like things go exactly as planned and put it on social media

Cuz everyone else is all at a distance away. And the ones closest to them, are just part of the same warped hype anyway

Just look at facebook, instagram and twitter!! You really think that’s their lives??!!! 24/7 Turnt up and not just highlight reels?? THAT’S BULLSHIT!

“You’re sidetracking tho… ”

Whatever. We still hang out a lot anyway

“But not in the way you want. You know you went about this all wrong. Fassihole. Big mun like you ”

…. Yeah but she still has time for me…. …

“Man I’m your bro. From day fucking 1! Why you gotta lie? Mattafact, why you tryna convince me bro? You can’t even convince yourself ”

(sigh) I know, Bro,

look listen, I just hate that I’m a coward with this…. I do I really do . I just dont even know anymore like Fuck… Man I’ll be right back. I just need to clear my head, chill on my own for a bit. Figure this shit out Vibe with nature or something

I dunno, Maybe just watch myself

Take my time and figure out some way to clock out of this “zone”

(via OYOU - 2/7)

(Second Installment of my Poetry EP)

The thing is, confidence is an illusion.

In our abstract reality, the truth is we’re really all just sky diving…

Some of us just know there’s a parachute.

And well others,

well

yeah

we fall.

“Look bro, there she goes. Man I’m tired of hearing you just go on and on about her… say something already man”

“Aight hold up, like, okay, okay I’m going in. Wish me luck fam I’m gonna do this”

Listen to O.Y.O.U. by @ItsAdolfus #np on #SoundCloud

I’ve been working on this project for the past couple months.

So this was a free write I did as part of a workshop where we were given meme faces, a random topic and about 5 mins to make something out of it (hence the faces reference on different lines). I got the Proud, Sad, Perverted and Thinking faces. A random performance exercise tbh. I just found this after at least a year or two and felt the need to share with the tumblr folk. I miss this. I miss playing with language. This was a fun exercise that isn’t for the stage, or necessarily for any books. I genuinely miss doing fun,random stuff like this, anyway, here it is! UPDATE:

See if you can guess where the faces would fit in. I’ve taken them out of the poem cuz it does disjoint the writing. I mean its all for banter lol but I love how its really serious and personal at the same time

*A Wild Lugia Appeared!!!*

Today, I am content!                                             

Lies.                                                                        

None of this makes sense. Lugia must be a metaphor and I must be trying to catch something...

Mom always warned us about catching things                      But what do parents know about nurturing dreams anyway...

The sky is faced with more insecurity than I can imagine, On most days crying even though the acne of last night has cleared up. Maybe you can’t hide scars after all?                                      Or maybe time is both concealer and revealer... I guess the term meteor shower is a lot more profound that I had realised...

Craters, like graters, scar, and I’m forced to cheese into camera lenses.

The cave in my mind needs flash.

.

..

My vocabulary is antisocial. When he gets stage fright he takes refuge behind big brother molars, gathers confidence like red brick leaves at autumn, carves a pumkin face then plays dress up...

Believe me In those few moments, When he’s done playing pretend, where full coloured sentences become a disheveled rubik’s cube in the cogs of my voice box. where silence, becomes the very currency in which we transact in in those conditions that you think awkwardness germinates in

We’re just getting to know you….

( For the record He thinks you’re in costume too; but whether act or actress you’re a play worth watching one worth the encore )

He speaks with my soul.

He’s a liar, but honest in the same breath but not at the same time. Like recess bells he switches… So when toe hits tonsils play time recesses he switches

I apologize for how often I put my foot in my mouth. It’s the only time I realise that together, we are broken clocks; hands and faces completely out of sync and bad with timing

You see, my vocabulary, He, has self esteem issues

His biggest fear is letting me down when I need him the most… So he acts as a crane, pivots on moments where I’m forced to go the distance over any area of uncertain concern

He hates pressure.

That’s the one thing we have in common.

(I guess a bird’s eye view comes in handy every so often)

Sometimes I wish I would let him be a bit more articulate

“This is the last time…” Mud covered boot meets fallen leaves, my soles, wet, meeting familiar footprints, the earth  knows my soul is lying

I’m here. Again… Fourth time today, Twelfth time this week, I think or twenty five All I know is it’s only Tuesday. Each time I catch the same glimpse of your crooked smile, those dimples, your curls and charisma

You were my last train out of this town

Together  We square pegged in this round (w)hole Me not so much anymore

****

After years of you asking for them at least now I’ve learned to like flowers (I’ve always been bad with time, and jokes) They remind me that one should always learn to speak the language of where one comes from

The daffodils, (the eavesdroppers) always your favorites, They’ve probably told you how when I sit here I converse with the sky Saying things like, How I still wish that day was only a derailed train of thought

How I wish it was easy to get back on track but don’t at the same time How I hate the fact that to them it is

easy

nothing more than just a headline, flashing lights and about two weeks of pretend

****

Maybe I’m no different anymore; . You were my headline my flashing lights

Derailed (Rounded)