What Do I Do When The World is Too Much?What Can I Do When Things Get Tough?What Can I Do When There’s Much To Do?
Expectations, obligations, needs, wants and necessities.
Piling up day to day, hour by hour, minute to the very last second.
In my mind, in my life, they seem to pile to the sky!
Until one day to the top I will climb till I am sitting in that sky.
As all things though we must come down,
Down crumbles the pile and down turns my smile.
As I am falling realization hits me before the ground does,
These types of things cannot be ignored.
So one by one when I hit the ground I pick them up,
Dust them and fulfill them all.
Slowly but surely my load gets lighter,
The sun comes out to make things brighter.
I take a break, laying down in the grass.
I look at the sky, blue, sun, trees, birds and all of such things.
For time must be wasted at least every once in awhile.
Once I am rested back I return.
Complete and ready to tackle my pile that's still growing steady.
Expectations, obligations, needs, wants and necessities.
What really matters? What is it I need?
To those questions I must say, I truly am not entirely sure.
What I do know is that nothing in this life is worth more than my time and how I choose to spend it. So spend it I will in the ways I see fit!
Back down in the grass I lay for a spell,for as they say, the roses I must smell.
Maybe the Plane Will Crash
Whenever I think I canʼt get more stressed… Life laughs. When you blow up your life, eventually charred remains should be all that's'left. Not this continued series of landmines I keep stepping on.
Next week, I'll fly to Texas to visit the man whoʼs abandonment nearly killed me 6 months ago. His departure was the right thing – it gave me a chance to win my son. I knew that at 25, he wasnʼt ready to commit. “If you love him, let him go. If he returns, his love is true.” So okay, the love is real. But knowing all thatʼs happened, what we've both done while apart… Is there moving beyond that?
I've been blaming my crippling social anxiety on this small town, on my ex and the gossips and the rumors that ran me over like a freight train. I've been denying the truth of my addictions – it isnʼt just drugs ruling me – itʼs my own sick habits of self-destruction.
What if I get there and Iʼm still freaked out by people? What if I get there and I am still weird and stuck in a fight-or-flight panic? Then I'll know, itʼs not the town, itʼs not my ex. Iʼm literally bat-shit crazy.
What if I get there and he realizes he made a mistake? What if feelings changed and seeing me reinforces that leaving me was the right thing? What if his friends make fun of him… not only am I old, Iʼm crazy as a loon.
Iʼm terrified of the possibilities. So I create catastrophes. I fixate and freak out on a future that has yet to happen.
And until I board the plane, I'll continue cutting, I'll get as high as I possibly can. And I'll avoid the fear until I literally canʼt hide from it anymore.
tell me it is just stress once more
I might not belong; or, feeling disconnected, and unable to explain the Flash! On becoming artificial: all that gravity weighing me, the lethargy and the awkward … we knew there would be no tomorrow (for us). We knew! there would be no tomorrow (future). What we [what we] didn’t expect_ spikes in our synapses and tough foam surrounding our head. The ineffectual implosion/visions, shooting rages, thee ERRORs and this heavy corroded spine. Wait. Lets start.. again. Migrated skids –through-the-Aimed fantastic small red vanishing point. Shoot me now. But, in general, the expectation that we should perform normal.. Reels for a connection; yet smashed, the immediate unraveling human himself; myself; like a frustrated robot… Only freakin crashes, flakes, right vanished with heaves, and Oooh I just ripple thru gears, engaging fingers keying fast enough to have won the brand new war..but not explaining much of anything.
Thus, where Corrupt files angst, like my system evaporates in shortcuts to feelings, stress, a virus. I am continually left with marks in chains of deleting phases. I am keying mmmultiple commands, but simultaneously memorizing the entries, and mesmerizing, but everything.. pauses.. But, everything!..that shines reflected in from the dark, purely cries, Everything! behind me stares, turns. Switch-boards, crushed parts, crumbs of piano-like panelboards, chips/gold tooths instantly rusting. Compartments blasted open. Fascinating screams into the universe, detach; .. .. Frying damn sensors and circuits, crashes, misaligning events .... of mankind. I might not belong or be made for this world—and, and I cannot reach! anyone or even begin to tell how vacant, hollow shouts, how artificial I am. Readout levels, reprogram like hot flashes sync through transferring terabits of printouts appearing normal. I mean, I’m not working. But behind me, the tests, after determining, the results show me as operating correctly.
Odd. Internal instrumental sounds like dreams cast.... emerges.... amongst construed ignition, and cranks, locks inside, trapped circulation and absorbing of this world, flips another switch after another; and upon defining, dawns another description of these horrid connections to this world; trapped soul in this body = Herniated rusting inside-out, taste numb swelli:::ng --- just too much. Too too much to exude.
Angels-Airwaves _Call-to-Arms//Spinning. Loading. The Fuel, thee only hope and heart that truly submerges.. rearranging the stabs and incorrect terminals and wicked claims that it all could be merely stress - “HA!”, i says - is the sound/voice, the echoes of forevers -'#Ifeelyourheaaaarrrerrrrrttt'- deflecting perfect.. Flash! And the worlds become wavy. Flash! And. .thanks for raging/reading/connecting.