#career
I want to experience something new.
All my friends are out there discovering. They’re having their firsts. I experienced mine so long ago that the concept of experiencing something new and fresh and first is non existent. What is there left for me to explore? To conquer? To cry over? To laugh over? To listen to music in my bedroom over? To write over? The high of existing in a new space is so intense and livid that living without it for so long has been exhausting. I suppose I am experiencing something new. Something that my friends not might know or prioritize at this moment. I am finding myself.
I don’t think it’s the same equivalent; however, it exists in the same universe. Many I’m not as content with this landmark as I say I am- as I think I am. What’s so interesting about finding me? Me? I am just a vessel in which experience flows and ebbs and twists and strangles. I am no experience myself. A happening experience involves two or more people. The yearning for a lover does not exist without the absence of the lover themselves. I can’t occur to myself? I cannot yearn the lover inside of me if the lover is myself externally.
That seems contradictory. Moments alone reflect the person, alone. I can mourn myself in the same way that I can be proud of myself. I can love myself the way I can a lover. In fact, I should- that’s the whole point. But is it the experience I want? It is certainly the experience I NEED, but is it what my heart desires? MY heart desires? The first experience is what I’m looking for. What can I succumb to? Drugs? Maybe… cigarettes I’ve quit (sort of), zyns I’ve exhausted, alcohol is rare but not too enjoyable, injectables… no never, **** I too have grown tired of. Lovers? Maybe… boys I only think of sexually, therefore there is no full emotional tie and if there is, I certainly lack the ability to surrender myself to that expression due to my lack of inner-queer empathy, girls I enjoy but I am not entirely convinced they enjoy me- too feminine or not enough, I feel as if I need to prove something to them and truly I don’t have anything more to prove than I would normally have to prove in an attempt at partnership. I get too busy for lovers anyhow… I never respond virtually but physically I’m always available. If I can encounter them daily or on the street it would be marriage, but if I cannot, it is a separation. Work? School? I feel as if these options as well have been exhausted to their fullest potential (as of now). I start college in the fall and I plan to be as sharp and attentive as ever. I also plan to meet my second love there.
So what truly can I experience? What do I feel strongly about- and the answer is nothing. I do not particularly feel any sort of way towards anything. How can I have a first experience if I’m not even enticed to experience anything- I truly just want the first. I want something new. Something that will make me, destroy me, resent me, and make me again. Perhaps this is what life is meant to be- especially once you’ve seen it all. I know I haven’t seen it all- I know it. Then why isn’t anything coming to mind?
Perhaps I am over thinking this concept entirely. The idea of overthinking this subject in the first place does not thrill me. Does not compel me to chase it again. I am living a very sad life I believe. What have I become? How do I move forward? How do I become willing to experience- and to experience fully- not just grasp at the perception of experience- to experience entirely. Maybe I should seek inward. Find myself. Name the vessel that I speak so dismissively of. Name the vessel. I don’t have to fill my clay *** I just have to make it. I must sculpt and flow and ebb and twist and embrace- until I am able to be filled with something. I think experience has weakened me more than I thought. I think it’s broken my clay *** I think now I’m convinced that perhaps experiencing something for the first time isn’t as important as experiencing anything at all- it’s equally important- perhaps more so. Through repeated experience one is able to break and crumple and change and to make new.
21m ago
Jun 4, 2026 at 3:28 AM UTC
One day,
The world will hear my name.
See my success,
And I will use my fame
To support the poor.
Give some to charity,
And then a bunch more.
The world will hear
Of a psychologist
An artist
A queer Muslim
An author
And I will hear it all
Proud of myself
Of who I am
Who I was
And who I will be.
Some day,
I will be proud of myself.
One day.
And a child will see me
Reading my name on a book
Or watching a bit of TV
And inspiration will flood her mind
And the world will hear my name.
May 25
May 25, 2026 at 8:23 PM UTC
I've been on the receiving end of this charade
too many times before.
I've had it with the runaround.
Tell it to me straight.
Get to the point... move it or lose it.
Any agreement has two or more involved.
This is not a one-way road.
I refuse to head down the dead-end.
I mean what I say and I say what I mean.
You need to come to terms with hearing 'no'.
I tried to see the good in you.
I gave you honor.
We could've had it all.
You've watched me fall
into the depths of debt.
You don't seem to understand.
This isn't about the value of the work
but rather the cost to operate a man.
I don't need consistent, I need sufficient.
I don't need easy, I need possible.
I tried to see the good in you.
I gave you honor.
We could've had it all.
You've watched me fall
into the depths of debt
There will be no other chances.
You don't seem to understand.
This isn't about the value of the work
but rather the cost to operate a man.
I don't need consistent, I need sufficient.
I don't need easy, I need possible.
You're nothing but a backbreaker
so you have chosen death.
The law of supply & demand is at hand.
Your presence sullies my essence.
My allies have carried my burdens!
Apr 28
Apr 28, 2026 at 6:05 PM UTC
It's hard to hear you're not enough.
It's harder when it's from the people you love.
What's hardest is they don't mean it,
they don't know how deep it goes,
how every opinion cuts,
the way I internalize every word.
Nobody will understand,
but they are just worried.
They don't mean their words.
When people love you, they say things
they just want to see me grow, be safe,
not endure the things they hear,
telling me they are scared.
Yet I want it.
I want it so bad that I can’t breathe.
I need it.
It consumes me.
It holds my mind captive
every day,
I just can't get away.
It surrounds me, and everyone knows.
Now I can't back out,
even if I wanted to.
But it's the regret.
The regret is what I fear,
the regret of never doing it,
never knowing.
Hearing their words twist,
gutting the thing that I live for,
the story I want to live.
Them making it feel
like here are no options
left for me.
No matter the path I take,
sacrifices are inevitable.
I don’t want to choose.
I shouldn't have to.
Not;
between them or my dreams,
between my heart and my future.
Some people get both.
But I won’t.
I get a choice between pain,
or regret.
To lose them; or myself.
I want to be selfish,
yet I can’t bring myself to be.
Their words make me doubt myself,
though they’ll never know
how deeply they hurt me.
How they make me question it all.
My reality, my personality.
I can’t put it into words.
There are no words to describe it,
no words to say why,
no words to explain how I need this,
why I’m willing to risk it all for a dream
Something that is now so out of reach.
I’m sorry to them,
but regret would hurt more
more than the fall,
more than than losing them all.
Mar 11
Mar 11, 2026 at 1:58 PM UTC
I am on the brink of change.
To my back are four voices ringing out to my ears
How I wish the wind was louder to drown them out
“Really think about this…”
“That would completely change your life!”
“Everything you know will be different.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
No, I’m not sure.
I’ve been on the brink of change before and I’ve turned heel and ran away.
This time I am to fall for the Universe has a net hidden under the fog.
I am on the brink of change, the wind carries the voices through me.
I am on the brink of change and it’s time I stepped into the unknown.
I’m on the brink of change and the universe guided me here.
I am on the brink of change and this time I am stepping off the edge into the abyss.
Oct 15, 2025
Oct 15, 2025 at 5:24 PM UTC
my boss asked me
to have a coffee chat
with the new girl.
talked about goals,
progression,
settling in —
it was the kind
that made me proud
for having
such a great team.
two hours later,
she quit.
Sep 28, 2025
Sep 28, 2025 at 1:50 PM UTC
If this is you hold on Your Change is coming
WELCOME TO HELL,
the PLACE of DISCOMFORT,
If you are WORKING
in this ENVIRONMENT,
yeah, you will soon discover.
a place that you hate, and
you really don't want to be,
you would rather be at home,
you would rather flee, and leave.
you are not there to make friends, and
some of them you're not cool,
just working in the environment,
of nothing but pure fools.
their personalities, you have to deal,
some of them you wish would chill,
you want to leave so badly, but
you got to consider paying your bills,
you got bills to pay, mouths to feed,
money is funny, and
the mean green you need,
your job is so MISERABLE,
It is just so UNBELIEVABLE,
This place is so PITIFUL,
you are feeling so INVISIBLE,
it has gotten so bad,
It's got you TURNING HYSTERICAL,
you are so IRRITABLE,
your position is UNBEARABLE,
If you could find a better career,
IT WOULD BE A TREMENDOUS MIRACLE!!!!!
The DEVIL IS YOUR BOSS,
HIS IMPS ARE THE EMPLOYEES,
Just leaving this job behind,
Will give you pure joy, and
to do something that you Love, or
a career you will enjoy,
It would be a BIG CHANGE,
just you wait and see, then
within yourself you will say:
THANK GOD I AM
FINALLY FREE!!!
B.R.
Date: 9/24/2024
Sep 25, 2025
Sep 25, 2025 at 12:22 AM UTC
“oh, how they will all bet on morrows that strain rills after dark,
and yet the Game, unpitying, regains its lordly behest at dawn;
lean back and feel the turn of things, the chance, the risk, the almost...
ante!”
⋮
this mania!
when it wreathes,
the imperceptible of myself,
it drains through me, sedulously,
hands aquiver, sight fretful,
and the bath of wanting (and not, ergo),
spewing and fusing
inside the etna of my inlying.
you are, then, obedience itself,
long before the grapevine,
before the Cards;
rails tarnishing, yet begrimed steel,
rather ossein, or thew,
turning to a suttee so pale, it forgets its ills.
and the trains;
yes, they were gushing, though not afore;
“did you think they would arrive for you?”
they smelt into clag,
into a mist of faces, barren,
swelling and shrieking of throe,
snaking, snaking down the spine of
the Stake.
slaves betting with their ilk of ardor,
when a match struck, belatedly,
but already it is leaning toward cinders,
its shine no more
than a laugh of people,
leaving the hall shivery in its bleat,
charcoals sighing their waning,
others honing their exit.
bitterly, bitterly, i am
left with nothing to hold but smoke.
but time, ah, time,
the nimble Host,
old trickster with his cuffs of lithe,
shuffling cloaks for loose change.
he and i,
always at the same table,
and i know his favorite sleight:
to grant the boastful player
a losing hand,
and winning eyes.
the coin is tossed,
to the Parlay; so soon cast,
so soon swallowed by the piker.
the crowd, they clap for a name,
but it is never genius they are crowning,
only luck,
foremost Dealer,
with that last word,
smiling as he lays it down:
only the blind Card turned upward.
~~~
and i,
sitting with my empty cup,
still growing a taste for losing
foolish, surely,
but the loss only deepens the greed,
doubles it, whets it past the reach of will.
so ring then, coin,
dull as you are, tattered,
clattering against the floorboards.
it tells me i am counted,
measured,
already spent.
yes, yes, it is only a caprice,
but it hews, it digs,
it laughs where no mouths are,
and i laugh back;
ante!
Sep 13, 2025
Sep 13, 2025 at 6:33 PM UTC
they told you no.
they meant never.
they tried to carve
a life without passion—
because passion is poverty,
and you deserved better.
just wait, little one.
the world will carry
your name on its tongue.
the dream they stole,
quiet as a matchstick,
burned through a decade.
today
you’ll strike it—
and the whole sky
will burst into flames.
Sep 8, 2025
Sep 8, 2025 at 4:06 AM UTC
Sometimes thoughts blanket the mind,
Sometimes stress smothers creativity,
Sometimes career collides with health,
Sometimes life forgets to live.
Aug 27, 2025
Aug 27, 2025 at 3:09 PM UTC
I didn’t know
that quitting my job
to follow my dreams
would shake me
this much
Aug 11, 2025
Aug 11, 2025 at 10:02 AM UTC
Dreams
The worst part...
Waking up to achieve it.
The best part
Waking up to achieve it.
If the hardest part is waking up?
I'd sacrifice my sleep.
To be with you forever
Or to achieve you.
Jul 30, 2025
Jul 30, 2025 at 6:36 PM UTC
Time to have some fun
12 years of school now done
Snooze you lose, time choose
Workforce calls each must decide
Slave to job paycheck career
Tanka
A form of Haiku
Differs in structure
31 syllables
Five lines
Syllable count
5-7-5-7-7
BLT Websters word of the day challenge
May 26 2025
Commemorate
Something such as a plaque, statue, or parade is said to commemorate an event, person, etc.
When it serves as a memorial; it exist or is done in order to recall the event or person. A person or group commemorate an event, person by doing something special in order to remember and honor the event or person.
Footnotes
Graduation ceremonies commemorate the moment when child becomes an adult. Two show they had graduated by the school standards. It should represent a competency to college and job placement and training. If college is an ecological step, your diploma is your ticket. To get into college. Representing 12 years of knowledge.
(Ok perhaps I’m jaded)
Welcome to the rat race
I would not want to be young today
Nobody wants to work
They want everything for free
Moral values are gone
After 12 years of school,
what skills do they have
United States have children
who graduate
without knowing how to read
As a nation
Our test scores are shameful
May 27, 2025
May 27, 2025 at 3:50 AM UTC
Sometimes,
I wake up to the sound of shattering
Dreams—not anyone's but mine,
And I don't even know why?
It's 3AM now,
And I can't sleep,
Why is it so tough to just breathe?
To breathe for an hour,
And I want that shine,
Even if it isn't mine,
Yet I can't reach.
It's not like I don't want to,
It's more like I can't do,
My skills, capabilities are weak,
Or you could also say that,
I'm weak.
The days feel heavy,
And the process is hard,
To maintain week by week,
Still I want to reach.
But to reach,
I need to breathe,
Not just for an hour,
But for a forever.
And sometimes,
This is the reality,
In which you have to breathe,
Not for a day,
Not for a week,
But for the homies,
Still, I want it to be—
a dream...
A shattering dream.
Apr 21, 2025
Apr 21, 2025 at 4:27 AM UTC
Look at you all pantsy Fants and dah Dee la
Itching your teeth drying your eyes Wiring Some Cash
and clicking your camara
a baby aimed for the world at large
reformed gormless
and clean for fresh intelligence
Look at you all lancing the breeze and cancer free
Bewitching the trials of your enemies
financed and careering
a duchess with ease
on the leash of some tremendous villainy
Apr 14, 2025
Apr 14, 2025 at 8:58 AM UTC
They say:
Unsee their eyes,
Unlearn their feelings,
Clear your mind, and
Just focus on your dreams.
But the question is—
What is my dream?
Is it art?
Or is it music?
Maybe it’s both,
'Cause music itself is an art, right?
Or maybe it’s a boy,
Looking in the mirror,
Asking questions about
Affection and attraction.
Or maybe it’s a girl,
With soft eyes and a fake gaze.
But if it’s a girl,
Then it’s difficult to achieve, right?
Maybe it’s something else,
Yet to be discovered.
Or maybe it is discovered,
But I am still figuring it out.
Maybe I know what it is,
But I don’t know how to reach it.
Maybe I have taken a step,
Yet the path ahead remains uncertain.
Or maybe it is already achieved.
But if it is already achieved,
Then it is not a dream—
It is reality, right?
And if it is reality,
Then what is my dream?
Mar 24, 2025
Mar 24, 2025 at 3:14 AM UTC
Working 9-5 struggling to feel alive, yet the pleasures of the weekend call to me.
My manager treats me well, lets me live in a glorified prison cell, 4 walls and a lack of sunshine to get me by.
Because the bottom line was worth my talents being bought on the bottom dollar so my boss can afford another Porsche.
I spend my days in a relentless haze looking at a life that I wish I had. Restless and lacking an emotional albi, my head holds me back because my heart knows I've tried to find the map to success one too many times.
What I do know to be true is that all my thoughts lead me back to you and what we'd do if we lost it all tomorrow.
Because everything we own is borrowed yet our time is owed to pay our debts and drown our sorrows in the latest fashion and technology credit can buy.
All of this a countless scheme living in a capitalistic regime where the boss makes a dollar and I wish I had a dime.
When does this cycle end, what I would give to have my livelihood extend, instead of running a rat race against my will.
Not to be instruspective here, but at this rate you're already dead my dear and the light leaving my eyes is not to far behind.
So, I take my 2 weeks vacation a year and pride myself on facing my fears because if my routine were to ever break I'm not sure what else I'd find.
Let's raise our glasses and make a toast, to the cubicles we live in the most. May a workaholic's love never find me.
Mar 16, 2025
Mar 16, 2025 at 9:23 PM UTC
Last night my poem hit 10,000 degrees,
Does that mean I burned myself a place in HP?
Or am I still on the path of becoming,
Hoping to get a lucky stroke and blow up?
Almost everything I post gets a reaction now,
I'm a name people know,
But does that make me somebody though?
What if I'm an actor,
Just playing his part,
I'll disappear when the director yells, 'Scene!'
If my art is recognized,
I've accomplished something real,
While living a dream.
But I am author enough,
That I could have a career in this?
Or will I start this journey,
But hear them yell, 'Dismissed!'
Mar 12, 2025
Mar 12, 2025 at 9:52 AM UTC
I can make a career out of this,
Right?
I can do this for a living,
So many people do.
I'm paranoid,
But I think it's reasonable.
I've done this for so long,
Who will I even be,
Without it?
Feb 23, 2025
Feb 23, 2025 at 9:11 PM UTC
My mind has felt different recently.
It's not normal,
compared to people my age.
I shouldn't be this way.
I care about things my friends don't,
but they think they're empathetic.
They ignore the mssages
written on clothing tags,
but I'm wise enough not
to buy those clothes.
I have overwhelming dread
over my future and what to become.
But people say to relax
and let life take its course.
If I let life take me places,
it would take me to a mortuary.
She gives me mixed feelings.
a week ago, I thought no one wanted me alive,
but now she's able to look me in the eye.
I've noticed she laughs with me now.
Is it me or are people just being fake?
Nov 8, 2024
Nov 8, 2024 at 3:42 PM UTC
Here I am 5 years later.
I’m asleep but I dream about the stress of a job that I dreamed of years prior. I cry over a job that I once cried in passion for. I think about the job just as much as I did those years ago, but for different reasons.
Today is an exact reflection of what you were thinking five years ago, someone said to me. It was all a thought you had five years ago. It made me happy, yes- emotional, too. But I wonder how much of that emotion was indeed for my accomplishments in that time frame. Did I feel unsettled, like I had seen the accumulation of five years of seemingly wasted efforts?
But I love my job, I tell myself. This is who you were meant to be, others tell me.
Do I exaggerate as I write this? Surely.
but that small voice I’ve been burying seems to be finding some confidence as of late. Or maybe it has always been there, just growing concerned for me?
It’s okay, I’ll figure it out.
Oct 7, 2024
Oct 7, 2024 at 2:54 AM UTC
Six call centre years/what will the next six be like?/career made for fools
Aug 20, 2024
Aug 20, 2024 at 11:06 PM UTC