My future's here.

I wrote this poem at the end of last year, prior to finishing my credits abroad, walking across the stage for that diploma holder, and hypothetical graduation. When it seemed as though my future would smack me square between the eyes, it came more like a sickness, causing cerebral atrophy and depleting my adventurous energy. My daily job helps to accumulate money, but living with my parents and suffering a very routinized transition into adulthood, early to bed and early to rise, widdles away at my ebullience.

So I will pursue my passions if work has not tired me out too much to pick up a paintbrush. I will involve myself with current events so even if I am not connected with my peers I can be connected with our struggling nation. I will try not to feel too overwhelmed. Maybe if I try hard enough I can make poetry out of the mundane and fashion art out of lukewarm, dreadful consistency. I have to consider this a passage and not an impasse. I hope adulthood does not mean always needing to make practical decisions. I struggle between apathy and restlessness, finding that with me there is just no grey area. I wrote the following poem before I knew how my "future" would be. Perpetually hopeful, I still wonder.

My future’s here.

Near sighted-
The inability to see far-
Day by day- test to task-
Stay whelmed.
Not over, or under-whelmed,
Enthused: yet another situation defused
To my physical being- abused-
A reprieve usually sexual healing-
But backward reeling, hedonistic dealings-
I am nearsighted and cannot see far.

Near sighted-
Inability to see far-
Moment to moment- pedal to metal-
Be optimistic
Plan, leave room for error,
Smile no matter what-
Stuck in a rut? So what?
Groping, feeling in the darkness for a path-
The road less traveled is a happy trail
More sexual healing:
Sexual reprieve-
In what system do I believe?
Bursts of faith are few and far between.
Bursts of emotion are more numerous and from between
Legs that tremble.
Faith waivers too.
Near sighted, feeling slighted-
Future hits with no time for wrongs to be righted.
I am nearsighted and cannot see far.

Near sighted-
Can’t see far-
Can’t think far-
Can’t plan far-
Can’t wish far-
Just amass scars-
Prepare for the next phase-
Countdown days that will inevitably come-
Tune in to electricity hum,
White noise to drown out reality-
Headphones plug in socially constructed self
Computer zombie suffers diminishing health,
Sits alone with dilated eyes,
Until outside shrinks them down to size-
Eyes on the prize- means really one foot ahead of the other-
Keeping head from falling over heels-
Documenting how it feels
As sexual experiences accrue
Not much else to do, but everything
Ameliorate the sting-
Passion depletes when systems demand you care less
Trying your best,
Is not good enough.
Take advantage of an opportunity-
And you’ll see-
I am nearsighted and cannot see far,
And as soon as far is near, my future’s here.

Times are changing

I have never seriously considered blogging, having spent years faithful to a series of medium-sized five star notebook journals. But if there is anything that can be definitively stated of our world today, it is that times are changing.

Let them pass you by, run you over, or slap you upside your consciousness? (No.)
Sometimes it may appear that I don't care: I may seem crude or abrasive.
However, not caring is hardly something to which I can plead guilty. Honestly, I care too much.

This world is not fashioned to accommodate the "carers" and is better at encouraging ego-centrism, entrepreneurship, looking out for number one. And this is only worsening with time.

Times surely are changing, so when the only option is survival- explode or implode, I choose the former. Consider this the start to a full-fledged explosion.

Look out, World!