neat poems

I’m learning a new language; I’m pretty advanced at this point.

Learning a language involves using it lots, of course

But doing so feels like writing with my left hand, but there’s areas where I feel steadier.

Some of the writing I do is for assignments

This introduces a (generally positive) pressure:

I need to actually finish the things.

Now, I could grind against my limitations to modest avail, try to express my true thoughts

But frankly, they’d get mangled in the process anyhow

So I let myself get swept along a bit by my weaknesses and my strengths

And it ends up going beyond that

I write a story, ostensibly about me, somewhat

And I realize

I have no obligation to truth

And I could write this in a very pithy way, maybe even elegant

so i have a suspicion about why i wanted to be the bad guy like im insecure sometimes which probably helped make it happen

but there are two reasons why it kind of serves the story (the story i tell myself)

first; when bad things happen to bad people its not like, that bad, its like... fair right?

second; if i’d been a raging asshole instead of sad, and crushed it’d have been my fault something within my power within my power to fuck up and maybe fix next time

These are, of course, so wrong that I don’t dare to split the piece, leaving one part with them unchallenged.

the first point; it’s gross, and its logic perverse the insinuation of justice being so cruel and the fucked up causality of “i suffered, so i must have deserved it”

and the notion that only only if my failing

i know it

must have been moral for me to have any control

it’s perhaps true by some measure or logic

but shame is a wicked teacher (worse than useless)

and the notion that it was my task to fix things; wrong twiceover first, if i had control over all good things in my life all the bad would be mine own as well (leading back to point one)

and second perhaps more importantly not all choices were mine, or mine to control it’d be rather tyrannical or, at least, egocentric to suggest so

I came back with a rather distorted memory how what I’d left here I’d been thinking about maybe writing one about how I hate flying soon, maybe

but I thought I’d just come back for some cleanup I was ashamed of the year’s early work sure that it was just, well me being an asshole letting off steam

so, well, purge the whole thing, right? but scrolling through it wasn’t that at all, really

just someone having a really bad time and a lot of feelings about things falling apart

you cannot stop people from leaving so don’t live in fear

ask for what you will and they can give or deny stay or leave

of their own volition

twenty-nine little works each capturing something

a feeling an idea (i needed them out of my head, either to examine or to have them captured)

you have not seen them they are not for you (i made them to deal with my shit)

but i can only do so much by myself the entire backlog is posted now and i have not done anything

and its just this slow poison i think?

its a line lifted from jojo rabbit (and maybe the original book? idk) and it has been driving me up the walls metaphorically (i am not particularly athletic)

it is, of course, very very stupid on some level fear is normal and you can’t (really really shouldn’t) stop yourself from feeling things feelings should only ever be managed, at most

but, to reference that game of thrones bit about bravery not in spite of fear but because of it or something like that

with that in mind i think the spirit of the initial quote comes through more but its like idk, should I?

there are serious practical limitations to consider and i don’t just mean not being suicidally naive

should you trust in spite of fear if you’re not sure you could take being let down like i get the principle but i’m not keeping it together THAT well and pushing yourself beyond your limits should be enjoyed cautiously some limits are harder than others

should you trust in spite of fear if you’re not the (only) one paying the price like, there’s a limit to how much you should ask from people and i’m pretty sure i’ve pushed that limit already by a bit

and if you trust without fear what the fuck does that mean trust is not in itself particularly actionable do i throw myself at her mercy, lay my heart in her hands do i do nothing trusting itll work out somehow, probably, its not just in my hands (thats how you miss flights, trust me.)

maybe the implicit subtext of trusting without fear is doing that which scares you most but like, cmon i personally think i have good reasons

and honestly, i think i’ve applied the mantra in the past granted, i was mostly gutted what i found out that wasn’t an issue of trust and, well

i want to skip yoga today sure, it went well the last time

but the bunch of times before that? this feels more like those times

walking home in the darkend drizzle the other day

I had a moment of realization

it was not great.

i find myself (at this time) in a recast arrangement of the time leading up to my greatest folly

in my defense my old mistake did not occur to me this time as a reasonable path of action

but i feel on myself quite accutely a piercing sense of the gravity of the situation

why can’t i turn off all the stalking features in the messenger app

“last online”

“sent, but not delivered”

“sent, but unread”

“read, but unanswered”

“unread, but clearly noticed considering the discrepancy with the last online notification”

even if i wanted this information (i desperately do not)

when would it possibly be appropriate to go “yes go ahead, this is important information for you to have”

by what metrics is an app formfit for secretive stalking neurotics even good business

is it just made by massive creeps?

cause i dont see how this shit would even make money

facebook monitors how much you talk to whom it uses that for prioritizing chats in the browser it uses that for choosing which friends to lure you with when suggesting you places and events

now first of all how dare you you intrusive weasels

second of all what kind of monomeniacal existence do you think i lead

no what kind of monomeniacal existence do you tell me i lead

dear reader who has faithfully followed these works i have a confession to make.

there is no truth in my words. I reactivated this little blog of mine to work through some feelings about a recent sour turn in a relationship of mine (in case you couldn’t tell). But the picture I draw is incomplete. Some things are dramatizations, some things are interesting blips of thought I held on to because even in great emotional turmoil, I’m still beholden to an insane instinct to, to put it as optimistically a possible, make good/interesting art. Some of them are written in the heat of some moment (an interesting trait of this text form is its ability to be phenomenally immediate), and maybe they even reflect that moment. But that is the most they are, the most they can be: traces of some moment. At best they can be emotionally dishonest to that moment, but I embellished sometimes just for artistic effect. Beyond that, the moments themselves were fabrications of sorts, not that I don’t stand by their emotional truthfulness. But I sought them out intentionally in all their extremity so as to be able to explore feelings and see how well they fit, and explored them. When I check the stats of the blog more often than not I go “yiesh” when I als look at which poem it was today that produced two annotations. Some of them are just off-putting in their emotional intensity, some are honestly a bit troubling to read. Now, because I don’t want to just have spilled half-truths here, some points of note that I think I can pass on from my recent turmoil:

- Say what you need to say. Sometimes theres no way around it (though it helps to moderate the self-importance that sometimes drives that impulse)

- Boredom is the parent of obsession and an idle mind will gravitate towards the biggest thing. When I tried to process things, it obviously was good to sit down and think about things, what they were and where they were going. But once I was done, I should have kept myself busy, because if not, thoughts will just continue to orbit the same thing.

- Coming to relationships from a position of fragility will mess you up. If you aren’t feeling like yourself, you’re in no shape to tackle your problems. And if you come before someone who holds your heart in their hands with no leg to stand on, you’re putting them in as much of an uncomfortable position as you’re putting yourself in, and none of you will be better for it. It’s good to have your own life, and thus the capacity to cope with the thought that things might go to hell.

i am in an uncomfortable position

i cannot ask you about your feelings as that may push you further away (again)

i cannot get closer to you there are too many unspoken things between us

i cannot tell you what i feel i don’t know anymore, with you so far away

i cannot get away (from you) too many unspoken things are unaddressed, too many feelings unresolved

of late, i frankly have absolutely no idea where we stand

you said if something’s bothering me i should just come out with it

i feel like you’re not putting yourself to the same standard

and i dont know how i feel about you anymore you’re getting blurry and the less i can see you the less i can hold on to my feelings

everything might be fine or absolutely on fire

i cannot tell

well, its probably not fine i wouldn’t worry then, would i

if it was fine we would have spoken you wouldn’t be absent and distant and dodging me

if it was fine i wouldnt worry why we havent spoken wouldnt wonder if you not having much tame of late is not in fact an issue of time but with me

it has been near two weeks since that conversation since, we have met just once at the scheduled time (there were no other times scheduled)

we used to be inseparable you said we’d work things out one day at a time

i’ve spent the first week wallowing (i’m not proud of it) and the second week getting back in the saddle

we’re quite separated now and i’m working things out one day at a time (they’re working out well)