I have a few,
like burning a good future.
Losing love
loving lots
spiraling in confusion.

Blinding rage,
petty sayings
a quiet vocal range.

Lackadaisical,
completely forgettable,
earn below the average joe.

I write,
I draw,
both subpar
I can't drive a car.

I can hide in a smile
lie with my eyes
and never really cry.

Overweight,
out of shape,
hoodie shaped,
never took a family break.

Mnm wants me to,
but never said I'd go far.
Won't ever date.
Usually believes in fate,
not holy gates.

my skillset so far.

Let it be known throughout the land
From highest peak to wettest sand
With sharpened tongue and steady hand
The talking frog is in command

With belly white and skin of lime
A hero for the modern time
He uppered fun and lowered crime
His skillset includes pantomime

Of all the kings he is the best
A chiseled jaw and manly chest
We even put him on our crest
(He helped to found the turnip fest)

A friendly frog we all adore
With lots of fun and games in store
He'll make us smile, he has before
We thank you, frog, for this and more!

Life, as it presents itself, is pretty straightforward.
School-work-family-grandkids-retirement.
It's all laid out for us like clothes on the bed when we are kids:
"This is how your life is going to be."
And we watch Disney and see all these people that have adventures And lives that aren't normal by any stretch of the word
And somehow we're expected to still have normal expectations of how
Our lives are going to play out.
Well, I'm sorry, world, but I have a longing to be better.
It's a cookie dough mix made out of both 1. Longing for recognition,
2. Wanting genuine friends,
And 3. Wanting to be valuable to someone.
Its a want to be wanted,
Like the characters in TV shows that get kidnapped and told
"You have a specific skillset that we need"
By a man in a black suit with a grave expression.
Wouldn't that just feel great? Like FINALLY
Someone thinks that I'm important, necessary, talented, special,
DIFFERENT.
It's my greatest fear, the fear of living
9-to-5
Going to work, day after day,
Sliding the project in the inbox, leaving to grab a drink and watch some Netflix alone before bed, then
Doing it all again.
Even if I wasn't alone, if I had family
Wouldn't that get dreary? Like,
Take the kids to school, go to work, pick them up, go home.
Day after day until they grow up and are gone and I retire and then What?
What was the whole point?
I need something bigger//something transcendent
I need a purpose or a goal or a mission
I need someone to tell me, okay, we need you because ___
And then I need to feel the thrill of the moment, the thrill of doing Something I'm inherently good at.
Is it just me or
Am I the only one dissatisfied with life as it presents itself?

Plaridel

Plainclothes this Saturday under the brusque heat – trees burlesque from shedding,
ripping orchestra of motorcycle: this one – too blatant to perform, to shrunken to
notice. What if I never reach you?

1.1 Crossing

There is an unrelenting transaction of birds in the surest sky in the surest day.
I can hear the rumbling of thunder behind its natal. If when found, discard.
It is easier this way unless inclinations are definite: the trance is to come,
shorthanded. Consider this day your being spared from.

2. Toll

I remember the identical traverse. It was when I was unsure of my birth. My father
had recounted and numbered how many slopes and trundles along the way when homeward
is turbulent, angled at such pace which could have given me another face. I have always
found it impressive that a person can wait for too long and waste away in hours that seek
no relevance when the daily is diminished.

3. Balintawak

You said that behind the marketplace is a dense crowd scouring for loose change. You wanted to supply them all with your adequacy that was rife and deft for sure in the turn of your hand almost a finger-exercise: that is your skillset. It will rain soon but the heat refuses to decline. You thought of the cumbersome bodies washed away by flood, and how at times, you remember them being randomly stacked at your doorstep, eroded by some wave.

3.1 EDSA

Space we have no need for want under a terminal day fully etched like unwanted visage making you remember something that was your flagrant disregard when asked about how
your day went, about a miscarriage of justifications, at work when facing absurd hours wishing to break away from that was our common bond – the long and dreaded silence because it made us always question what are we doing? Who are you? What for? Knowing for sure when to being but to end, indeterminate.

4. Familiar curve underneath a vandalized lamppost

In the console you pressing, discarding gravity at some point, managing to draw your way into and submitting to not knowing how to get out of, sealing an immediate sepulcher. We borrowed minutes, ran like fugitives when asked. An external shadow an intrusion so we had to cease for a moment but in the depth of our silence, somehow continued.

5. Entry to your home

Perfumed your garage was with autumn, or vegetation you said was your aunt’s prized possession. That it was my fault I did not turn you off as a switch is meant to be killed from the moment of discovery to dislimn the image and leave everything to study as specimen is meant to be dissected.

6. To go backwards*

         The only way home to where you were and I, scattered

to Dani*

remember when, you do not:
you are a ground slicing the center of
    this home.

the long divide the furniture endures.
in front of the colossal tv
bodies spilled like water.
20 minutes was all it took – your name alone,
a potent hygroscopy.

when close enough:
dissipate. You took all the green the foliage could,
    soldered to your body a forest it manifests.

   repeated, if not a newer foundling:

    the   space   you  take  for  acquisition ,
    the faultless tenancy   you   mistake   as  counsel.

every saved for, and gleaming space
   aspires for venue – translates to an arena for snapshot.

[some mundane depiction ascribes for you to be known]
years later my portrait still hangs perpetually
on a modern furniture from a contemporary skillset.
  take this declaration.

years later, leapt to this day and forward:
the surgery of galvanized steel is reminiscent of a departure.
the tedious laborer smiling through bonsai pots
  carrying out lobotomies. The afternoon more sterile than
   your    face  as if operation.  This town knows you by practice
  
  and habit: all of it sepia, if not leaden.

My emotions pours into my writing
Stop fighting
Let my words consume you
You know it’s the right thing
My emotions might be dark
I promise, It comes from the heart
Let my words in and it will bring
An unclouded mind and a heart that sing
Let’s call it a summer fling
In the end
Your thoughts and emotions will be in a swing
Lifting you up, bringing you down again
Like flying on a eagles wing
Or the first scent of spring
I will even at times make you feel like a king
I’m down on one knee, and now produced the ring
Are you going to ignore this fact...
Or shall we begin.

The suburb life has me talking this way
In fits and in bursts, a rainbow array
Until I find an alternate speak
I ask if you can please bear with me

I met a Sir in my cull du sac, grey
A man in a dark and stringy toupee
Concern I felt as he spoke to himself
And the echo still sits on my book shelf

The brew is new, I will chew!
Petri dishes... more than a few!  
Let my strong voice ravage through
The mask I wear to protect you

See my power over this
I’ll put my tears in this fist!
I curse the devil, you know
A mage I am, in mourning

I followed that man as he walked in his home
I asked for his name to put in a poem
He said his name is merely a disease
And there’s not yet a working vaccine

Stomp stomp I’m here I’ve arrived!
Here to save all of mankind!
From this piece of RNA
Plus keep other strings at bay

With Angel ****, feet and lips
The skillset on my CV
Microscopes and power bars
And all of my great technique

Covid 19 has me up in arms too
The quarantining and seeing too few
To curse the devil is brave as can be
But to dismember an angel scares me

I followed that man as he walked on out
This time dressed just like a true scout
In scrubs a sheild and everything else
Needed to fight a war on bad health

To work day and night the biggest fight
I have schizophrenia, so I am right
Wow! Hurray, without sarcasm I knelt
Thank you sir for the work you do, heartfelt

This was much closer than I expected. Had I realized this earlier, I might have done things differently.

Running through the checklist, double-checking if I missed anything vital.

Major points seem somewhat in check, although I could work on some things: better coitus? cutting on fast foods? diversifying my skillset? career prospects?

In retrospect, the biggest accomplishment of this quarter has been investing in my happiness.

This will be an investment I'll continue to pursue moving forward. The rest shall follow.