#careers
My biggest dream
When I was little
Surrounded by those so brittle
Was relationships
Love
Everything in between
And above
Now that I'm older
I found them
I've had my heart stolen
I've seen stars above
And wonders around
Til I ended up on the ground
Heart broken
Then again
Evermore
I found a dream love
Rough at first
Hard to tame
Now we're changing
Our last names
Soft and plush
Endless lush
Now what?
What do I do
What do I be
Am I happy?
Who is me?
I spent years alone
Some ok
Most with stones
I thought I knew
Me
I thought I knew
Destiny
Am I God's child
Am I young and wild
Am I caged and broken
Sickly and bedridden
What's my purpose
What's my goal
Will I ever know
Is having fun enough
Is being in love enough
Why do I feel so rough
Am I a mother in waiting
A loner always hating
A musician and poet
Lost at sea before you know it
I'm coasting
The shoreline of life
Ive lived some
But who do I become
Years stolen
Now constantly
Unknown
Fun and comfort
Fighting for health
Is this my wealth?
I think everyone feels empty
Or mostly.
I feel ghostly
Barren and cold
Dead to any life shown
Emotional and overblown
If this is normal
That's devastating
I want a goal
I want to know
Is God real
What is it that I feel
Am I failing God
Am I failing me
What's destiny
I'm bored
I'm empty
Like once before
A child wishing for plenty
She still hasn't gone
I'm terrified
This is where she stays
And forever belongs
A constant sad song
I have so much to love
Yet so much to grief
I want a reprieve
I want a happy tune
A beautiful moon
A snowy night
No more goodbyes
I want to know myself
And my life
I want to own it
I want to know God
And all there is
I want to find bliss
No more emptiness
That child is scared
Every night
Every day
It's hard to breathe
Someone
Or rather myself
Please show me
Show her
The way
What to do
Everyday
Nov 21, 2024
Nov 21, 2024 at 4:20 PM UTC
This morning’s sunrise was a tacky and artificial affair.
The sun was played by a weak, 12-watt, refrigerator bulb
that looked wet and heavy as it struggled uphill like a drunk.
The horizon reminded me of a cheap, runny theatrical illusion,
the clouds were old cotton ***** glued to cardboard silhouettes,
the birds sagged like dead puppets from uneven coat hanger wires.
I don’t miss you. Everything’s fine. I hardly noticed you were gone, actually.
Things here are a laugh and a half. We’re doing fun girl things. Anna got new shoes.
I’m hardened by years of inescapable, solitary, covid lockdown. I’m immune to despair.
So go off, interview for that new, far-flung PhD life. Go fawn over Elon Musk for all I care.
I’m definitely not in my room eating spoons of peanut butter and crying to Tom Waits songs.
Apr 11, 2023
Apr 11, 2023 at 11:26 PM UTC
I sat there in the wooden office chair
My boss sits across from me
A dark wooden desk sits between us
Outside the window
The buzzing of drones serving the queen
Thoughtlessly focused on their tasks
My boss snaps me back
Another warning on my “productivity”
Maybe this time I’ll shape up
Bees leave to find flowers
But they are never far from the hive
They are shackled with a purpose to the whole
I sit in my car just before leaving for home
My wrists and neck stiff from another day's worth of tasks
I’ll be back here tomorrow
And the next day
Jul 12, 2022
Jul 12, 2022 at 11:09 PM UTC
We all have goals,
We all strive to obtain them
We try our best to stick to the path,
And avoid obstacles at all costs.
But we realize that life isn't always a straight line.
Sometimes it hands us a curveball,
And our direction veers off course.
Once again, we're back at where we started.
And that's okay.
It may not be what we wanted,
And it may not be what we asked for
But we make the best of what we've got.
And try, try again
In these uncertain times,
Self-reflection isn't unheard of;
It's almost like a great pause.
With the world around us slowing to a crawl,
The stress and anxiety are getting to us all.
We find that brief moment of clarity,
A revelation that, maybe, we're not lost after all.
Jun 28, 2020
Jun 28, 2020 at 3:36 AM UTC
How do you decide?
Decide what to do,
What the future holds for you?
I don’t understand, one goal,
One goal that somehow
Supersedes them all.
How do you choose?
When passion flows through you,
For not just one, nor two,
But many life paths, careers,
It all means something to you?
I feel lost, thinking of the future.
I’m floating by, trying to find,
Something that could spark
More than mere interest,
Something that could captivate,
Hypnotize me for long enough.
Because you see, I flit from one
Passion to the next, one minute
I am drawing, the next sewing,
The next it’s animals I love,
Or how about teaching children?
And I sit here empty, not sure
Which path to take, which goal
To make, to work towards,
Because right now, I’m in
The inbetween, no job,
Not in school, what do I do?
But the reality is, I’m trying to find
That one magic passion,
That somehow works with my
Disable body, since almost everything,
I find it all exhausting.
And my mind is spinning circles,
A dog chasing its tail.
Why can’t I do it all?
Why can’t I just enjoy life, enjoy
All of the things it brings,
And take my time, because I’m
So tired, of trying to figure it all out.
Tired of planning, I’ve never been
Too good at planning, when there’s
So many things occupying my mind,
So many things that I desire.
But even then, even then, if I could find
A goal to work towards, a dream job
For right now, well that takes work
And it takes time, because it
Turns out it’s all a ladder that
We all have to climb and being disabled,
Well I feel left behind, not sure
How to move forward when
I also have to go up, and going
Up has always been so draining.
I must work now, to somehow
Get somewhere I would rather be,
But what do you do when most jobs
Require me to be on my feet,
With my level of experience,
And education, limiting me?
It’s like I have to hurt myself
In order to hopefully some day,
Live a better life, I guess that’s why
So many say, ‘suffer now, and
You’ll get your reward later’
I tried university, tried college,
But you see, being disabled,
Has made them difficult for me.
At least, in the ways that I was pursuing.
And now I’m stuck, trying to find my way,
How to get out of this rut, this mess,
All around me while being limited
By my own body, when I’m so used
To trying so hard to keep up
With the rest of them, charging
At how much money they can earn.
Money, it always comes back to money.
And money stresses me out,
Makes me more sick, gives me more
Pain that I would ever like to be in.
Well, apparently, money is
Supposed to be the solution.
Not so easy when the job market is crap,
I didn’t come from money, so I had to
Start off with nothing, and make my own way.
But where do you start, when
All your ‘now’ prospects seem
Rather lackluster and all you can do
Is prepare for a future.
Strange to think that we’re told to
Live each and every day like
It’s the last one we may ever live,
When we have to spend our beginnings
Stuck in preparing, deciding, and striving
For a future, so hard to make,
When all you started with was
A journal to write in.
I just want to live now,
I want to live everyday,
I want to spend more time
Cultivating all this passion inside
Of me, it’s bursting inside of me.
But there’s this rut, this anxiety,
This fear, of having to build a life,
No, a career. So that I can live
In the future, instead of now,
So that hopefully, we can get by,
Scrape by, by the skins of our teeth.
Tired of working crap jobs,
That I don’t really like, where we’re
Unappreciated, and paid to barely live.
Overworked, underpaid, I’m in so much pain.
My body, can’t stand in this pain,
But that’s all I can do is stand.
In pain, at a cash register,
Or making drinks, no consideration,
Of the struggle it is of being disabled.
Because we all have to able.
Able to stand, to push, to work
Your ***** off, until there’s nothing left,
You’ve given all you’ve got, and then
Some. Soul ******* career bent,
Work too hard, to fit in.
You got to be a workaholic to fit in.
Well I can’t keep up with that pace,
And I see it wearing people thin,
People that have more strength,
More drive than I ever did.
How are we supposed to live,
When you have to work to live,
And, in turn, live to work.
It’s extremely exhausting.
All of this jumbles inside me,
I can’t breathe, can’t decide,
How I’m supposed to live my life
When everything screams
On all sides, that I’m supposed to be
Running, supposed to be rushing,
And that all seems so wrong.
I just want to live a life that has meaning.
Something meaningful to me, that I can
Actually enjoy each moment as it passes
Us all by, I don’t want to rush life
Before it all ends, I’m so tired
Of trying to run in this ‘rat race’
It’s not a race, I need a slower pace.
I demand a slower place.
No more running, no more racing,
It’s time to live in the now,
No fear.
Mar 2, 2019
Mar 2, 2019 at 5:54 PM UTC
I hate what it is doing to us
The closer we get the hotter it becomes
The top of the mountain
Where freedom is promised
Continues to grow taller
While the path that leads us burns at our feet
I could drink it all away
But the path grabbed the bottle from my hand
It was my commitment
And yours too
We were friends because of the path
And now we can’t even talk about it
There is nothing left between us
They killed it with money
I love you as a brother
But the enterprise wins again
Like it always does
Because businessmen are not farmers
We felt the connection between us
The words and the music
And our fathers who were made in heaven
I can only speak to you in a dream now
Because you are as afraid as I am
We gave them our souls
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 11:48 PM UTC
Impatient fosters stand,
Awaiting for their boy turned man.
Their face an oasis of emotion,
His the same-
Simply gilded in rock facade, no notion.
Implanted in societal grasp,
No care today, could barely rasp.
Thoughtful vernacular struck me quite,
Made me realize,
What I'm doing is right.
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 10:17 PM UTC
At age 8 my teacher would ask me what I wanted to be when I grow up, so I told her a fashion model.
She laughed and wrote it on the board.
At age 9 I wanted to be a doctor along with half of my class.
At age 10 I wanted to be a teacher, they all told me it takes a lot of education and I would have to work hard in order to get there.
at age 11 I wanted to be an artist, they told me to pick something more realistic so I said a singer.
They said to stop playing games and choose a job.
at age 12 I was pretty hooked on the idea of a singer, so I sang
And I sang
And I sang
Until I believed that I was good enough to be famous.
at age 13 I was so confident about my singing
Until I heard their voices.
Most of the girls in my choir were reaching the high notes and their tones were so clear.
I gave up on that dream.
I knew I wouldn't be like them.
So I began poetry.
This was the year I wrote my first poem "nobody cares".
I showed it to a few really close friends and my sister.
They said it was really good, it got them emotionally and that was what I was aiming for.
At first the poem was about 2 pages long but I cut it shorter every time I showed it people because they told me what parts didn't make sense to them.
I took it as a way to improve my poem.
So then I started posting it on quotev, and tumblr, and now hellopoetry.
I wasn't expecting anybody to like it.
I continued poetry and now it comes to me so easily, I can write poems like I'm writing my own name.
at age 14 I told my teacher I wanted to be a poet and he told me that
"I needed to improve"
At age 14 I didn't know what I wanted to be.
Nothing was good enough
Nothing was realistic enough
Nobody gave me enough support to go with my dreams.
At age 14 I decided that I wanted multiple jobs.
I still haven't told anyone because I already know what they're going to say.
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 10:08 PM UTC
There is
an immense freedom
in not having
a career to protect.
~ mce
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 5:23 PM UTC
Control
Like love
Is indifferent
To race, color or age
I see upright monkeys
With honed, lunatic, pestilent
Expressions
Around endless corners
living out-
and hosing down somberly-
Frequency dreams
Battery life sputter drains
that whip with sardonic torment-
Beat with blood-bathed smiles
Laughing to slow vertiginous rhythm
in captivating faces
Take, take, take-
To receive such
an empty promise
And I've lost interest
in this silent war
We've constructed
so dizzily
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 4:22 PM UTC
I have a fascination of clocks.
The exact moment that they have stopped,
is known for anyone to see.
How can it be,
that love, careers, and families,
cannot be the same?
How can it be,
that I will never know,
the exact moment when it all stopped,
when it all came crashing down?
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 2:38 AM UTC