punching bags

-

punching bags and therapy

you'll never know what you did to me

cause all i ever seem to dream

is something besides harmony

a phone passcode

an aging foe

who wants to live a fantasy

conversations never had

still written in love and all that jazz

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Anxious Elderly I Never Saw Coming

-
When we think about pinning the label 'anxious' on someone, there's a very generic character that will come to mind almost immediately. Whether that image comes about through the conditioning that has been placed upon us by society or through the lack of information and understanding around mental illness that is still present in our society but one will suggest it was through no fault of their own, we all see this character. You've already picked the gender, she's a female with the assumed pronouns of she/her without the question being asked. She's an adult, not yet old enough to be considered 'ready to make her own life changing decisions in life', but makes the decisions for a national company under the guise of the boss she works for because this woman can't remember what she wrote in an email thread she's got open right in front of her.  There's the smell of a fresh haircut lingering as she walks by and you're eyeing her bangs wonder...
Read more

adults are horrible people...

-
Image
Adults are horrible people. They are laced in the misfortune of their past and the yearning of their childhood.   All seems doable until a mundane fact swoops in to turn their train of thought into a sea of turmoil. The relationship with their brain is both too complicated and yet too simple. Yes and no answers are always laced with explanation, even when it is not required. Love is a fleeting emotion overcome by the desire of stability. Feet now planted firmly on the floor after being swung in the air.  Once laced with the depressants of liquored lust and sweet nothings.  Bombarded by the realities of documented lies and losses.  Unacknowledged endeavors now keep us up at all hours of the day. The nights then filled to the brim with unactioned conversations. We tumble around the 'will they won't they' trope. Until the clichéd unrequited love looms overhead bursting the bubble that is your ego.  Black holes seem like appropriate resting places. We're made to fee...
Read more

"Do you want to send this message without a subject line?"

-
Image
I'm baffled by the amount of variations of "I don't know" one person can convey in a subject line. There's double spacing and ill formated punctuation. Half a sentence taken over by a derailing train of thought and a finishing touch of a phrase that comes off as a question instead of the solution I was hoping for. No wonder sleep has been such a struggle. Last night I had a conversation with my soundboard to make sense of the days one liners and distractions that took away from my getting anything done. No sense of accomplishment or pride from me, just uneasiness about what my tomorrow would bring. Here I am hoping that there was a way to influence my 9-5 outcome, but those ambitious days drain the bank of energy you'd need for a week with sharon.  Subject Line: What's the office phone number?? That email had to be the highlight of my day and yet I still couldn't muster even a giggle when venting to every breathing mammal that would listen. A women who...
Read more