Tuesday, December 15, 2015

Puberty (abandoning all the rules of writing and making sense)

These feel less like growing pains the older we get and more just like pain. 
Why haven't these things been dealt with?  
Why do I still feel these debilitating pangs I felt so frequently when we were younger?
Screaming at the top of my breath because I can't let anyone hear the sound I'd make if I could articulate whatever this is going on inside me. 
The, ridiculous, self loathing; so intricately built and sturdy, indestructible, I fear. 
The worst case scenario scenes playing on a loop while I try to keep whatever life I stitched together with my shaky hands from tearing apart. I don't even know for sure if anyone is threatening it with scissors. 
I let myself feel too safe. 
Too comfortable.
It's terrifying. 
So, we prepare. 
We used to call each other for help with these things. Don't you feel like it's gotten old? Like we're just talking to ourselves, and we've already tried to hard to pull each other out of the mess, the quicksand that's never as bad as we think? Our lives keep happening in different time zones. And maybe this is just life. Maybe this is it. Maybe we'll always need the pep talks. And maybe everything will always be generally more down than up. Is this what it's like to be an adult? To feel like we did in high school, but with bills to pay, and live in boyfriends, and jobs, and no Christmas break, no breaks ever from anything?
I know, just stop. We're better than this.  
We'll get our shit together. 
Let's just blame it on the moon, my sunshine...

5 comments:

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  2. Dear, I abandoned my RULES o'RITE
    right when I was born, toots; lemme give you summore without d'New Joisey accent, kapiche?

    Greetings, earthling! Need summore new-fangled-thots N ideers? Look no firdr, brudda. Can't stay long. Done gotta git, Paw... yet, if Im a sower, we plant the Seed; if Im an artist, we RITE the Word:

    Would U please help a plethora of King Size, wildchild, rawkuss poetry/wordz which are lookin 4 a home in thy novelty?? Thx. Whew. They're pretty insane. They're bereft of reason. Oi! Blimey! They're bloody PINK spiders!!

    Gotta lotta gobba shrewd, surreal, supersonic, sardonic satires, sassy N savvy elixers N electronic elegance (...and palpable nuance) on our YOUTHwitheTRUTH blogs. Wannum? Have'm. N'joym. Gettm outta my hair!!!

    How mucha wanna betcha our sugar-high-mojo, pleasure-beyond-measure, fuse-blowin-exploits R a copious madhouse of one lavish bookay D.O.A.? Our proFUSE NRGod who leads U.S. to explosive fairy-tales in the 'one-stop-shop' symphony Upstairs? God's the BigDude, the Owner of ElysianFields, the Grand Prize, the Austere Overdrive, NoPurchaseNecessary: our bombastic tenaCITY on a Hill which'll plant the Seeds 4u2 grow-up to new N greater heights!! Mama mia! Thatsa good pasta!!

    CAUTION: our 22ish, avant-guard, accurately-atrocious, offa-the-reservation-like-Jimmy-Hoffa, metal breadcrumms R sooo out-of-order, toots, they're an intimate wealth of bottomless sophistication. And dats da lethal fak, Jak. Go ahead. Sue me. Yawn. But, yet, here's the perennial KOO D'TAH: who else has actually SEEN the Great Beyond in spirit & lived to tella youse bout the bionic, bloated, brevity-like-earth we're living on?? Yes, earthling, I had an NDE, almost salivating4salvation. So gain altitude, never attitude: death has no intrinsick favorites.

    If Mr. abSUREditty's an ultra-great-reward, and not everyone enters, Q: why is it an excruciating deluge of epic-.357-caliber where the quality's a limitless bulldozer plowin, pushin-your-power-cord with eternal goodies? A: the Prize-A+-TheEnd just gives U.S. moe-curley-graphix 2 VitSee: an explosion-of-extravagance which few R asking 4 anymore! Grrr. They're too concerned withe grotesque sanity of ambivilant piss-ants which swiftly crawl like lemmings to their scorecard destruction. C'est la guerre.

    THANK GAWWWD!!! the Don has the ebullient BAWLS!!! to do the Manifest Destiny!!! To lead U.S. forward to the White House Upstairs with his SQUARES!!!

    So, break-free, earthling; be like a contraversial outgrowth of incredibly-intoxicating-effusiveness in your zeitgeist to give the ultimate, stunning, backknuckle potency: Wiseabove. Wanna join this useFULL idiot Upstairs 4 the most zany, kooky, X-acto-knife antidotes? Extremely exquisite, explicit endorphins in abundance? Puh-lenty of pulverizingly-tantalizing psychopathic psychosomatics with eXtras? i2i-kick-velocity's-ass-ultra-maximum-rocket-fuel-party-hardy at my pad ya ever encountered without d'New Joisey accent 4 an eternal slew of precarious, magnanimous & primeval absurdities indelibly etched in the granite corridors of eternity with a total-barrage-of-melt-in-thy-mouth 'depth-of-undenial'???

    Make Your Choice  -SAW
    ...cuzz nobody gitts outta here alive, earthling.

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