Help me! Help!
I'm stuck I am so stuck!
Black inertia has been the bane
- it has been THE enemy -
and stronger thus far.
I do not have it in me
to fight.
No - I am not possessed
of strength or faith -
of patience or TRUST
to know that I am safe
on the other side of chance.
I cannot see the ground
as I am on it.
Lost in a tunnel and dizzy as to front or back -
start or finish -
even the a/b decisions are tortuously -torturously!- impossible
And as I see the bullet heading squarely and surely
for my soul's and sentience's middle
I can neither move left nor right
I cannot choose, faced with "maybe" or "might".
This has been the longest night
and I am done!
The villian has won...
...I cannot be found,
for my past and present and all I ever had or was
has wed me forever to this ground
as I am in it.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Saturday, May 22, 2010
When is it going to change? What I mean to ask is, when are humans going to change. I have to admit, I do not have any perspective as to whether or not I'm being impatient about the behavioral and attitudinal flaws of my species, but I'm sure I don't have it in me to bust and bust and cry to affect change that will fully manifest only after this temporary biological form I've taken gets sucked back into natures bigger cycle of which me and now is an infinitely fractious subordinate.
That urgent and anxious impatience is my own frailty - I get that. Let me try to explain what I mean by "lack of perspective".
So far, this piece sounds like it's going to be some big pedantic and cliche'd rant about some the basic imperfection of being a person. Nope.
I want the reader to understand that this is very personal and heartfelt. I'm talking about being tired. I'm talking about wanting and wanting and bouncing between confusion and tenacity like some orbitting electron. No start - no finish - but these are inextricable parts of a cycle I cannot even define.
I am sick of wondering if I'm "doing it right".
One person or book or school of thought tells you that there is no second place. This side wants you to act. You who wish to plan and think are indulging your fears and even laziness by this procrastination and inertia. This side says that you are the sum of your actions, your accomplishments, your work, your sweat, your power, your gain, your accumulation of stuff done and stuff gotten. They use words, phrases and fortune cookie wisdom like "weak" and "whiner" and "no excuses!" and "bootstraps" and "tow the line" and "there's no 'I' in team" and "you gotta want it" and "no pain no gain" and "there's no such thing as 'can't'!".
I'm from the other school. I'm a waiter. I'm a worrier. But, in moments and phases of self-critical anxiety, which can border on hysteria or panic, I am overcome by the guilt that tells me I'm weak, a whiner, an excuse-maker.
That urgent and anxious impatience is my own frailty - I get that. Let me try to explain what I mean by "lack of perspective".
So far, this piece sounds like it's going to be some big pedantic and cliche'd rant about some the basic imperfection of being a person. Nope.
I want the reader to understand that this is very personal and heartfelt. I'm talking about being tired. I'm talking about wanting and wanting and bouncing between confusion and tenacity like some orbitting electron. No start - no finish - but these are inextricable parts of a cycle I cannot even define.
I am sick of wondering if I'm "doing it right".
One person or book or school of thought tells you that there is no second place. This side wants you to act. You who wish to plan and think are indulging your fears and even laziness by this procrastination and inertia. This side says that you are the sum of your actions, your accomplishments, your work, your sweat, your power, your gain, your accumulation of stuff done and stuff gotten. They use words, phrases and fortune cookie wisdom like "weak" and "whiner" and "no excuses!" and "bootstraps" and "tow the line" and "there's no 'I' in team" and "you gotta want it" and "no pain no gain" and "there's no such thing as 'can't'!".
I'm from the other school. I'm a waiter. I'm a worrier. But, in moments and phases of self-critical anxiety, which can border on hysteria or panic, I am overcome by the guilt that tells me I'm weak, a whiner, an excuse-maker.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)