Thoughts are words dissolved on tongues: chewed, swallowed, and digested in tiny little pieces. Internalized and singular: an understanding reached by one. Dialogue breaks barriers: building empathy brick by brick. Expanding points of views (when willingness allows). But language is limited: an attempt to find common currency. Always losing value due to flawed rates of exchange. Repetition is key: with synonyms shining differently-angled light. To get across unambiguous subtlety of some fundamental meaning. Forgetting is a tragedy. A lesson unlearned. A heart rebreaking. A thought dissolved on the tip of a tongue, that never got the chance to be unleashed.
You tell me you are blank. You are the absence of thought. You are a vessel potentially purpose-serving, but tucked away for future use. I’ve been there – I am there – a lot of the time – too much? I’ve been there, or I’ve been somewhere that, at least (I think), is similar. What remains is the anxiety of not having much to be anxious about. What remains is the fear of doing too little; of falling behind; of responsibilities sliding unintentionally by. Tomorrow’s problems are tomorrow’s, although we could handle them right now (ambition is a creeping constant – always readying its sails). Tomorrow’s problems are tomorrow’s, but they’re disguised as the worries of today, because today is simple – it’s easy – although it’s never fancy-free. I’ve been there, I’ve been now – resenting repressing an itch for unwanted unneeded responsibilities. But today is simple – it’s easy – take a second hour day: enjoy its full duration. Just remember (and remind me) to breathe.
I’m looking in from the inside: too close, too close, too alone. A broadening perspective: much needed. The introduction of external factors. My mind expanding strained trying to organize all of what we both need, without forcing a compromise – at a stalemate refusing compromise – scared of asking, but more scared of retreat. You hold so tight yet you’re ready to let go. Already having let go but waiting for a final disappearance. Enjoying it while it lasts. Enjoy it while we’re here. Sink sink sink hold down hold under all unacknowledged latent fears.
We could go on some adventures. We could grow we could explore. We could learn from all of Them – taking pieces of extended olive flesh – to try to figure out who we individually are. Grasping taking hoarding knowledge of some small newly-added fact, of what it means to be human – a lonely longing part of something incomprehensibly more. I could, you could, or we could take it day by day. Set out to sooth our restless minds – forget we’re only pawns in play. My next move: I don’t know – I’m still pretending I don’t know the rules. Your next move: unwritten, unknown to me. Possibly no more than a blip of thought in your mind, where no push has yet brought to surface your shove’s necessity.
You whispered in my ear, on a day not unlike so many others, that I am the kind of girl who deserves everything. I whispered back: I’ll have it all. We will. Because if I had it all I would share it all to you, and I will have it all and I will share it all to you.
I feel like I am hearing the same select few conversations over and over again. I feel like I am hearing the same select few conversations over and over again. I feel like I am listening to people say the same things. I feel like I am the only person who notices this. How don’t they notice this? How don’t they? How don’t they realize they are having the same select few conversations over and over again. Why do we still talk? Why do we small talk? Why do we talk why do we try what are we adding what don’t we know? I feel like I am hearing the same select few conversations over and over again on repeat but to the persons in dialogue it seems new and it seems fresh and ideas are being exchanged and it is worthwhile and they are worthwhile and they have a sense of purpose and they are proving that with their mouths and their tongues and their voices speaking minds. I feel like I am hearing the same select few conversations over and over and over and over and over and it never ends it never ends it will never end it won’t stop and I get older and I go on and it continues as I listen as I watch as it cycles as it cycles as we go around and around in place.
A hope for light from stars too distant to yet touch down on earth. A firefly trying its best to illuminate rooms as dark as pitch. The center of gravity: the cause for grounding: removed remainders floating free. Tangent to a rounded path: flying off in some direction: collision course unsettling. Days or nights untold unending in a darkness colored dim. The ups the downs the highs or lows learning to sink trying to swim. A warmth unknown to generations up and coming: a unifying force turned shared tragedy. Come together to stand by fire? No: we’ll kill each other first; we’d rather freeze.
Sharons always get broken up with for doing nothing wrong. I think compatibility is more about how you like things than which things you like. 25 must be the age where older men no longer find it creepy to hit on you. Birds fly north for summer, and doesn’t that make them fair-weather friends? I want to make up words when I talk to my kids. That’ll be fun. Actually, nevermind, that would be kind of cruel. A lot of clean-looking, older lesbians we’re having today, huh? The distinct feeling of being in a boring store for a long time with my mom and trying to be patient but honestly feeling like we will never leave the store. I think I was brainwashed into thinking that drugs are worse than they are. A poem that starts describing someone in beautiful, flowery, abstract ways, and then gets more and more base and declarative. The time of Kevin James has ended. I am powered by my desire to get people to see how ridiculous they are when they’re trying to behave how they think normal humans should behave. Tinder journalism. Sitcoms are people embarrassing themselves to a laugh track. She had the face only a bartender could love. What if there just was no Beyoncé and she was actually an alien robot Beyoncé? I could literally be doing anything right now and this is what I’m doing. I no longer support pen advertisements. Was human evolution the process of becoming better communicators? Now we can say so many things that people have developed all of these precautions against having to deal with other people’s dramas. Being irrational is usually seen as a call for help, but what if you just like being irrational and want to be left alone with your irrationality? Writing words on social media isn’t doing anything but annoying people who otherwise wouldn’t have to listen to you. We are probably, as a society, too bombarded with opinions. I am inherently bothered by “Best of” collections; they seem inauthentic. Life Goal: Corner Treadmill Video Market. My cat meowed at me but I think he was just trying to say hey. You ever wish something mildly bad happened to you? Like, you wake up and have a flat tire? Or you twist an ankle this way you can tell people you twisted your ankle? Yeah, me neither. My kitten sometimes annoys me and I wonder if that makes me a terrible person. I really hope I look good in hats. I kind of want to go for a drive and see where I ended up, but I am scared of actually ending up nowhere and with no story to tell. I want more things to be life altering experiences. Life altering experiences probably only happen when life needs to be altered. Are goals things you want to have done, but haven’t gotten around to doing yet? I worry that don’t acknowledge 80% of my thoughts. That is giving fuel to the “most statistics are made up” fire, but I am 100% alright with that. I don’t think enough people are introspective, but I don’t know if the world would be better if they were. I am sweet in my head, but not cloying. Seesaw is a funny word because it probably was named because at a height, one person sees, and then, when the other rises, the first person saw. If I kept talking forever, in two dimensions I would probably circle, in three, I’d spiral. I think the most romantic thing ever would be to get the coordinates of where you met someone tattooed on your body, and I will be severely disappointed if I meet my soulmate online and can’t make this happen. Pizza.
Stepping forward and backward. Remaining in constant motion. But on average standing still. Shaken, stirred, whirling around. The calm point, I hear, is in the center. Funneled to a low point: stop and catch your breath. The journey down was a struggle, and the climb back out might be harder. Can I sit here forever and be carried along?
Numbness numbing: no hard feelings. Forgive, forget: problems left unfixed. Ignoring for the time being. Ignoring for your well-being. I gave away all that I could and you accepted: you’re deserving. I let it happen, then I feel used. I let it happen: preferring being used than being left to collect dust on a shelf.