Sudden flashbacks

Atrocious memories

See the innocent child

Hiding from a parent

That he loves

And loathes

Witness

The erasure of hope

He’s given up praying

Nonstop horror

Has a way of

Removing faith

oh me what am i to write

15 minutes and i 've already corrected a typeo

oh fuck me

well, less see, i'm a sittin here in my chair

ain't quite sure but my butt aint bare

got mee a place in the middle o my lair

crotch seems to itch but i don't quite care

granny's in the ditch and i'm laughin at her hair

cuz she needs to get it colored hard to see it in the glare

blah blah blah

i fucking hate rhymes

truly uninspirational

but most of the times

it's what comes outa my brain

nothin but lemons and limes

cuz i ain't got nothin to say

aint' been said before

mind you

fuck you

oh yeah

the truth is i still can't figure it all out

i mean, i'm educated, god damn am i educated

i oughta be a fucking superstar with all the degrees i gots

but ever since i got laid off i said

"fuck you world, keepin it all to myself; my brains and my hots"

cuz i'm a misanthrope, always have been, even when they had me chained up in that fucking office cell, staring at that screen, tryin to analyze and design all that shit, making money for sure, thank god for that, but whew

where i really wanted to be was outdoors, working in a garden, digging holes and planting things, sweatin in the sun, slappin squiters off my back and diggin gnats outa my eyes; true work; man's work, not some sissy peckin at a keyboard, sissy coworkers peckin at every word and image i designed like relentless pricks

no wonder i didn't keep in tough with any of them assholes

but her i am

don't give a damn

lucky on the loose

crazy as a lamb

so that's my story, the reject who rejects, i was fakin it all along, but i got my virtues and treasures: i got a beautiful wife, i got two beautiful dogs, i got a big wooded lot where i can piss where i want, least my dogs can, but they prefer the little "business" area i trained them to use when we got em as pups, and i can plant all them plants now too, veggies, berries, trees, even radishes, specially radishes, those store bought radishes suck like mother fuckers, big they are but tastless, damn tasteless, and a god dam radish should not be tasteless.

3/13/2025

What if someday never arrives? I have been thinking a lot about control. The illusion of it and the safety in it as well. The helplessness that ensues when you finally realize you cannot control everything or everyone.

My friends lost their baby this week. They are the nicest people and this was their first baby. Delivery was for this week... then my friends and I get a text. They lost their baby. A girl. They had decided to not find out the gender until the due date arrives.

What do you say to that? I pray, I know not everyone does but all I can think of is, I will pray for you. I don't know what else to say. Maybe that is okay. Maybe sometimes there are no words. there is only the action of being there and sitting with your loved ones in their grief. I cannot begin to understand and I can seek to understand but only when they are ready and wanting to share.

But I still sit with this feeling of helplessness. I think because of past experiences/traumas in my own life having control is became the source of safety. If I can control my relationships, if my romantic relationship do not progress, or if I don't date at all, I am safe from harm. But what a way to live huh?

I hope one day I can give up on this illusion and sit with the helplessness that ensues. Would that mean I finally embrace what being human really is? Is that what being a human is?

So I sit here on my couch, going between crying and numbness. I wish I could do something, I wish for a lot of things.

So if someday never arrives, what will I do to make sure my life has meaning?

I will write,

I will show up for my loved ones,

I will accept the unacceptable fact that you cannot heal the world with a broken heart... or even a whole one for that matter.

--- Poem time---

Poem for your thoughts?

coins down a well with no ending

if there is no ending where do we even begin?

Come to the wishing well darlin'

throw in your hopes and dreams

and I will throw in mine,

maybe our bound forevers

will become bound together

maybe we can finally find the "more"

that was always present but never seen.

Maybe, maybe maybe,

I guess that is the whole point of a wishing well now isn't it?

------- food for thought---

If food was a time machine

I would eat my Nonna's pasta until the day I die

which would be prolonged by the fact that I will travel back in time

see the eyes of my young Nonna, hard and determined

a nurse with broad shoulders and a stubbornness to boot.

Who stood toe to toe to doctors, protected her older sister fiercely

doesn't matter she was older, my Nonna would never let anyone trample over her.

As I get older I wish I had that sort of toughness that grit. I think in some respect we all wish that we could different from our current selves. Sometimes i think it is such a fickle feeling. I wish I could just enjoy the me in this current moment.

I suppose wishing is a good place to start.

So many thoughts, if I were ever to become a poet, my book would be 3,000 pages long hahaha... but really it would be more long winded than having a conversation with me. I like to turn the attention on the person talking, sharing a little about myself but mostly hearing another the other person, mostly letting them speak. Usually this is pretty easy to do, other times its as if they know what I am doing. I am not saying I am not an interesting person I just don't like talking about myself all that much.

Oh well would you look at that perfect timing as I write about myself... my time is up hehe ;)

Two weeks ago, I finished my master's degree in business and I have yet to celebrate or acknowledgement my accomplishment. I feel happy about it, but yet I don't feel proud or even like I've done something grand. And I don't say this in a way to downplay myself, but I honestly thought I would feel more excited. Eight years ago, when I finished my bachelors I was estatic and I defitnely felt it. I mean EVERYTHING changed after my undergrad. I moved off campus, my family came up to celebrate and watch me walk. I started a new job. Life moved forward.

However, two weeks ago, nothing changed. I make the same amount of money, I work the same jo . Even the other day, my VP told me congrats and I responded "congrats for what?" As if everyone knew I finished, but me. I'm not sure what I'm suppose to be feeling or if this sort of numbness or lack of excitement is normal, but its strange.

Overall, I just feel really "light". The moment I got my final grade I felt so relaxed. It was like I finally had piece. My friends wanted to go out and celebrate my parents are super proud, but me I just wanted to finally be able to open my laptop and not have to worry about school work. It feels like the end of a long chore. That's it. I feel like I just cleaned my apartment and I'm satisfied, but there's no reason to throw a party.

As you can tell, I'm not the biggest fan of school. My approach has always been to pass my course with a B or better, rather than learn the material. Only a select few of us elite slackers and underachievers know what I mean by that. I more of a problem solver than a student. After roughly 3 years of school I had forgotten what it felt like to have nothing waying over me. What it was like to be carefree and have nothing weighing me down. It felt.. boring. I've always had this feeling of " there is something I'm suppose to be doing" And even the act of procrastinating those responsibilities was more exciting than having absolutely nothing to do.

So yeah, thats it. I've finished grad school, nothing has really changed and I'm bored and writing my thoughts out to my hearts content. For breakfast I had a 3 egg omlete with sautted white mushrooms, sweet peppers, red onions, and tomatoes with mild cheddar cheese.

Time is going by too fast. I need to find a way to make (?) more time. Hmm

I guess I should make a list or some shit like that. Prioritize my time.

maybe i should check online for some ideas.

Noooo online is a bad place to try to “save time”. Somewhere in my brain, synapses weakly fire to remind me of this oft disregarded fun fact.

Okay, this article blurb says to set a timer for 25 minutes and do everything you can and then take a break. This one says do 2 hour blocks.

Naw. Fuck that.

I can't focus on anything for 2 whole hours.

This other person says to wake up earlier.

Nope.

And don’t take naps.

tf?

Well that’s kind of personal, isn’t it?

I realize these are big time-eaters (is that a word), but too bad. I like to wake up when I want. And sometimes I just need a nap around 2pm. So those lame ass bullshit ideas are out.

I'm wasting even more time looking for ways to save time. Oh, and writing about looking for ways to NOT waste time. That's a surefire time-suck (definitely a word). How much time can a time-suck suck if time-suck could suck time?

Copious amounts, apparently.

So I am insane and poor at time management. What kinds of career paths might I have left unexplored? I won't research that because did I mention that I am also quite lazy?

Hey, I know you wanted this with all the typos and organic crap, but my autocorrect is on point today, so I apologize, challenge host dude.

I think I still have some of my 15 minutes left on my timer so let's talk about if you could go back in time, who would you have a one night stand with? And why? Just to be a time traveling slut? Maybe. kinda.

But no. I was thinking I’d definitely have a group thing with Chronos, Aion, and Kairos. I think then I might come away with a better handle on this time management thing.

Oh look… I just wasted yet another 15 minutes babbling about wasting time. Toodles mfers xo

It’s uncomfortably quiet,

Emptiness is creeping in,

Internal chaos,

making this silence so unsafe for my mind.

Relentless darkness fills me with the awareness of my abnormalities,

Leaving me critically cryptic,

that value of my worth,

Is just as empty as this tomb.

Going on ao3 and looking at the other White Lotus fanfics was a mistake. I shouldn’t have but I’ve been devoid of inspiration and thought maybe other people’s work might inspire me but they didn;t they just make me feel like shit because I don’t want my brother carnally I don’t want to kiss him I don’t want to be this disgusting freak who can’t even be presented in a show where one character is obviously a sexual predator because he’s hot so everyone loves to pretend his siblings would want him back. That’s not how incest works, that;s not how it works that’s just how people like to pretend because it’s fiction; nothing like that ever happens in real life. I’ve been avoiding my brother for months now but nothing like that ever happens in real life. It’s not something we’re allowed to talk about so I thought maybe I could write about it but what;s the point when people will just bookmark my fic alongside multiple smut fics what’s the point if no one will understand? Nobody should understand; I don’t want to be understood. It’s good that incest is seen as so obviously fictional people can write about siblings like they’re romantic comedy leads. That’s a positive, a net benefit to the world unlike me. All I do is complain at ChatGPT about my brother and how scared of him I am and how I hate myself for it. There’s six minutes left of the timer. I don’t know what to write without writing too much or incoherent blabber like I don’t want this I don’t want this I don’t want him I don’t want to be this scared all of the time I don’t want to be supporting a goddamn AI but nobody else would want to hear about this shit it’s disgusting I’m disgusting and I have four minutes left on the timer. I had three chocolate chip toaster waffles for breakfast I’m probably going to have leftover tortellini for lunch and then buy overpriced chocolate on my way to work like I can eat my feelings out of me like if I consume enough garbage maybe the fear will be excreted alongside it idk why I’m writing this I don’t know why I’m going to fucking post it when I looked at the other entries and they don’t seem to actually be stream of consciousness. Two minutes left and I didn’t even break this into paragraphs nobody should read this but people will and then I’ll get prose emails informing me someone liked it and then I’ll probably regret life entirely. I could theoretically set another timer and try again not sharing too much about my disgusting life but time’s up

Twenty years ago I cried every day on the way to work. My husband finally said I needed to find something else to do and I did and it was good. Until it wasn't. And then I found something else but my husband was diagnosed with Parkinson's and we turned 50 that same year so we accepted there was far more life behind us than ahead and I retired from a six figure job with too much stress I couldn't and didn't want to handle with the new stresses at home and decided to pursue acting, writing and painting - life-long passions I hadn't pursued because of lack of faith in myself and a desire, a need, for more security than life in the arts could provide. And so, here I am, seven years later, happily pursuing my passions yet, again, crying every day on the way to work. Work is great. I love what I do as well as the time it gives me to write and read. But I feel the increasing weight of the world with the earthquake of changes shifting the very foundation of lives across the country and the world in its entirety, and as I drive I am overcome with a blinding terror of what may come given the bleak and long history of man's cruelty to man and a persistent inabilty to learn from past errors, indeed a tendency to repeat, repeat, repeat, to profess love of God yet spread hate. And I bawl as I fret over my son's future, my husband's daily suffering and increasing difficulties, my mother's slow goodbye...life...