i shouldn’t be
doing this now.
i keep on telling
myself not to do
it, because i said
i wouldn’t, and it’s
not like you’re ever
going to read this,
but it just keeps on
popping back up in
my head, my mom
keeps on asking if
i’ve seen you lately,
i lie and tell her that
i haven’t, but dammit,
every day i wish i never
said your name to her.
she asks me about you
as if you two have met,
and it hurts that it gets
brought up so much now,
because i wish things had
gone differently, i wish that
cooler heads prevailed and
there wasn’t so much anger.
it’s all been blown up so much
that now it’s affecting others
around us, there’s someone i
struggle to talk to and i say
that i’m fine, but she’s been
seeing how distanced i am.
how did we even get here?
was it something i said or
did? was it something you
said or did? did you just get
tired of dealing with me? eh,
i guess i wouldn’t blame you,
i get tired of dealing with me,
too, and i wish for so much:
i wish i could do better and
be stronger through all this,
i wish i didn’t keep writing
this when i said i wouldn’t,
i wish in some way that we
could fix the mistakes and
be friends, and i wish that
the tension would go away,
but, i mean, life doesn’t give
many happy endings these
days, so i guess this is how
i’m gonna be living for now.
happy belated birthday, by the way.
didn’t forget, just never got to say it.
Friday, October 18, 2019
5. we fucked up
i’m still in shock
that we lost him.
four months later
and, despite what
he believed, i still
haven’t forgotten
him, i still haven’t
stopped watching
his old videos and
wondering just how
exciting it would be
if we still got to see
his smile, his spirit,
his ability to make
a bad day better.
we fucked up hard.
behind that smile
was a man crying
for us to help him,
and yet we spoke
loudest with those
clown memes, too
many took him as
a joke, thinking for
some reason that
he just wanted the
attention when he
really had 800,000
people checking in.
the world took him
away from us, but
we didn’t make the
situation better, just
seems like the jokes
only proved the point,
and even if he couldn’t
help himself, the memes
weren’t much help, either.
now we’re left mourning a
man who left far too soon,
social media couldn’t leave
its toxicity to the side for a
moment, and all we’re left
with is the memories of a
better, much happier time.
we miss you, desmond.
that we lost him.
four months later
and, despite what
he believed, i still
haven’t forgotten
him, i still haven’t
stopped watching
his old videos and
wondering just how
exciting it would be
if we still got to see
his smile, his spirit,
his ability to make
a bad day better.
we fucked up hard.
behind that smile
was a man crying
for us to help him,
and yet we spoke
loudest with those
clown memes, too
many took him as
a joke, thinking for
some reason that
he just wanted the
attention when he
really had 800,000
people checking in.
the world took him
away from us, but
we didn’t make the
situation better, just
seems like the jokes
only proved the point,
and even if he couldn’t
help himself, the memes
weren’t much help, either.
now we’re left mourning a
man who left far too soon,
social media couldn’t leave
its toxicity to the side for a
moment, and all we’re left
with is the memories of a
better, much happier time.
we miss you, desmond.
4. winning sucks
it always seems like
everybody wants to
be the best, they just
want to be winners at
something, no matter
what it takes or who
they have to beat to
get there, and sure,
it sounds appealing
to be the best at a
thing you’ve put so
much time into, but
i can tell you, it’s not
nearly as good as you
may be led to believe.
i’ve been a winner,
believe it or not, and
there was a time where
people thought i was the
absolute best at what i did,
and you would think that felt
good to me, or that it made me
want to get better, but in reality,
it wore me down, it made me wish
that i’d never gotten good enough
to be seen as the best, and it only
encouraged me to stop practicing.
the more they told me
that they just wanted
me to lose, the more
times i got flipped off
for winning, and the
more times they got
angry with me when
they didn’t win, the
more i just wanted
to hit the off button.
the more i wanted to
pretend i had no idea
what i was doing, the
more i wanted to just
quit and remove this
from my life entirely.
it got to a point where
i said, “fine, you win,”
and gave up on doing
something that, at one
point, was my escape
from the toxicity of life.
because that toxicity seeped in.
and that’s why winning sucks.
everybody wants to
be the best, they just
want to be winners at
something, no matter
what it takes or who
they have to beat to
get there, and sure,
it sounds appealing
to be the best at a
thing you’ve put so
much time into, but
i can tell you, it’s not
nearly as good as you
may be led to believe.
i’ve been a winner,
believe it or not, and
there was a time where
people thought i was the
absolute best at what i did,
and you would think that felt
good to me, or that it made me
want to get better, but in reality,
it wore me down, it made me wish
that i’d never gotten good enough
to be seen as the best, and it only
encouraged me to stop practicing.
the more they told me
that they just wanted
me to lose, the more
times i got flipped off
for winning, and the
more times they got
angry with me when
they didn’t win, the
more i just wanted
to hit the off button.
the more i wanted to
pretend i had no idea
what i was doing, the
more i wanted to just
quit and remove this
from my life entirely.
it got to a point where
i said, “fine, you win,”
and gave up on doing
something that, at one
point, was my escape
from the toxicity of life.
because that toxicity seeped in.
and that’s why winning sucks.
3. this world hates you
the older i get and
the more i see, the
more i start to feel
like the collective
heart of the world
gets colder, like it’s
at a point of being
unchangeable, all
that positivity that
i used to spread is
worthless, and the
optimism i once had
fades with each and
every passing day.
sometimes i happen
to realize stuff that i
didn’t notice before,
like the one time that
i was shamed because
i didn’t want to live, at
14, i guess i didn’t take
the time to realize it but
i was put to shame and
i was invalidated on the
grounds that i had such
thoughts. i felt like i was
not allowed to feel down,
like i had to hide all of my
sad emotions behind the
mask of masculinity, and
that i wasn’t allowed to be
weak at that point in time.
that feeling of shame
reared its ugly head at
me once again just over
five years later, when i’d
quit my retail job. i felt like
my life had been threatened
when a customer who claimed
that he had a gun backed me
into a window, i still feel like it
gives me some ptsd, because
i’m honestly shaking and my
heart is racing right now as
i type these words out here.
what hurt just as bad was
how invalid my pain’s been,
since the boss never called
after i left, even though i was
told he would, also some that
i loved weren’t on my side and
thought the way i left was more
important than the fact that my
life could’ve been in danger, and
even now i’ve heard some tell me,
“eh, that’s happened to me before,
it happens in the workplace,” hence
why i remind others not to invalidate
another’s struggle just because you
have one you’ve been going through.
i guess i’m just seeing
proof that this world is
so unsympathetic, it just
doesn’t care about how
you’re feeling, it wants
you to get caught in its
trappings and play into
its demands, it works to
silence you, like i’ve been
for so often, never getting
a say and always being the
one pinned down and in the
wrong, i could scream it out,
but no one would listen to me.
if this is my only way, so be it.
the more i see, the
more i start to feel
like the collective
heart of the world
gets colder, like it’s
at a point of being
unchangeable, all
that positivity that
i used to spread is
worthless, and the
optimism i once had
fades with each and
every passing day.
sometimes i happen
to realize stuff that i
didn’t notice before,
like the one time that
i was shamed because
i didn’t want to live, at
14, i guess i didn’t take
the time to realize it but
i was put to shame and
i was invalidated on the
grounds that i had such
thoughts. i felt like i was
not allowed to feel down,
like i had to hide all of my
sad emotions behind the
mask of masculinity, and
that i wasn’t allowed to be
weak at that point in time.
that feeling of shame
reared its ugly head at
me once again just over
five years later, when i’d
quit my retail job. i felt like
my life had been threatened
when a customer who claimed
that he had a gun backed me
into a window, i still feel like it
gives me some ptsd, because
i’m honestly shaking and my
heart is racing right now as
i type these words out here.
what hurt just as bad was
how invalid my pain’s been,
since the boss never called
after i left, even though i was
told he would, also some that
i loved weren’t on my side and
thought the way i left was more
important than the fact that my
life could’ve been in danger, and
even now i’ve heard some tell me,
“eh, that’s happened to me before,
it happens in the workplace,” hence
why i remind others not to invalidate
another’s struggle just because you
have one you’ve been going through.
i guess i’m just seeing
proof that this world is
so unsympathetic, it just
doesn’t care about how
you’re feeling, it wants
you to get caught in its
trappings and play into
its demands, it works to
silence you, like i’ve been
for so often, never getting
a say and always being the
one pinned down and in the
wrong, i could scream it out,
but no one would listen to me.
if this is my only way, so be it.
2. pray for the young ones
in my reflection, i’ve
thought a lot about
the young ones, and
though i’ve made it
known that i’m not a
religious person, i’ve
felt the need to pray
for the young ones.
i’ve thought so much
about the position i’m
in, and how it relates
to so many others that
i know, and i can’t help
but pray for their safety.
this year, the last class
i shared the high school
floor with graduated, so
all my former high school
classmates are entering
into adulthood, and even
if i’m not in direct contact
with a lot of them, i pray
they find their happiness
and comfort sooner than
i did, and i hope that life
treats them a little more
positively in their move
to college and beyond.
even more than those guys,
i look and realize i’m now a
senior at an art college, and
as i start taking my last steps
away from the college life, i’m
praying for the ones that are
just walking into it, i hope that
freshman year is more special
to them than it was to me, and
as i enter the real world of art,
i pray for the young artists that
are below me, and i’m hoping
that the teachers who critique
them don’t break their mental
health like that one did to me.
still haven’t gotten over it.
i guess i’m not used to
this feeling of seniority
in my adult years, and
maybe i’m not used to
the pace life is moving
at, because my senior
year of high school still
feels like just yesterday,
yet here i am, realizing
i’m heading to the big,
bad, scary world soon.
the best thing i can do
is hope those below me
don’t have to fear like i
have for the past years.
i’m praying for them.
thought a lot about
the young ones, and
though i’ve made it
known that i’m not a
religious person, i’ve
felt the need to pray
for the young ones.
i’ve thought so much
about the position i’m
in, and how it relates
to so many others that
i know, and i can’t help
but pray for their safety.
this year, the last class
i shared the high school
floor with graduated, so
all my former high school
classmates are entering
into adulthood, and even
if i’m not in direct contact
with a lot of them, i pray
they find their happiness
and comfort sooner than
i did, and i hope that life
treats them a little more
positively in their move
to college and beyond.
even more than those guys,
i look and realize i’m now a
senior at an art college, and
as i start taking my last steps
away from the college life, i’m
praying for the ones that are
just walking into it, i hope that
freshman year is more special
to them than it was to me, and
as i enter the real world of art,
i pray for the young artists that
are below me, and i’m hoping
that the teachers who critique
them don’t break their mental
health like that one did to me.
still haven’t gotten over it.
i guess i’m not used to
this feeling of seniority
in my adult years, and
maybe i’m not used to
the pace life is moving
at, because my senior
year of high school still
feels like just yesterday,
yet here i am, realizing
i’m heading to the big,
bad, scary world soon.
the best thing i can do
is hope those below me
don’t have to fear like i
have for the past years.
i’m praying for them.
1. point of no return
lately, i’ve been taking
a lot of time to reflect
on all of this, and that
probably isn’t surprising,
we writers often tend to
be very reflective, but
i’ve had a lot of time to
look at all of my work,
and it turns out that i’m
at the point of no return.
25 albums in, this is the
life i’ve made for myself,
to think of how much my
life’s been flipped around
over the last two years.
back then, it was just
about letting out the
thoughts that no one
got to hear, the fears
that no one thought i
had because i was a
happy, positive guy,
but now, this is my
livelihood, it’s more
than just thoughts
written out, it’s my
art, my expression,
it’s the place for me
to be unabashedly
me, it’s the outlet
that’s saved me
just as much as
it’s changed me.
i’ve written of myself
in a way that i could
never have imagined,
i’ve brought all of my
worst fears, left all of
my biggest beefs, and
laid my baggage out on
a plate for everyone to
see, and i could never
take away a moment of
it, i’m in this until i take
my last breath, through
all the lost friends and
dark times i’ve lived in
and written, there’s no
going back on it, guess
it’s time to embrace it.
no turning back now.
a lot of time to reflect
on all of this, and that
probably isn’t surprising,
we writers often tend to
be very reflective, but
i’ve had a lot of time to
look at all of my work,
and it turns out that i’m
at the point of no return.
25 albums in, this is the
life i’ve made for myself,
to think of how much my
life’s been flipped around
over the last two years.
back then, it was just
about letting out the
thoughts that no one
got to hear, the fears
that no one thought i
had because i was a
happy, positive guy,
but now, this is my
livelihood, it’s more
than just thoughts
written out, it’s my
art, my expression,
it’s the place for me
to be unabashedly
me, it’s the outlet
that’s saved me
just as much as
it’s changed me.
i’ve written of myself
in a way that i could
never have imagined,
i’ve brought all of my
worst fears, left all of
my biggest beefs, and
laid my baggage out on
a plate for everyone to
see, and i could never
take away a moment of
it, i’m in this until i take
my last breath, through
all the lost friends and
dark times i’ve lived in
and written, there’s no
going back on it, guess
it’s time to embrace it.
no turning back now.
work in progress preface
it took me some time to get here, but finally, my 25th album (and 30th project) is ready to go. i decided to call it "work in progress." i had to cancel an album to get to this one, but some of the concepts for that planned album did end up here. it felt good to get a lot of this off my chest, and i hope you guys enjoy reading it!:
1. point of no return
2. pray for the young ones
3. this world hates you
4. winning sucks
5. we fucked up
6. back to you
7. how are you?
8. not bad enough
9. i'm scared
10. work in progress
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