VERY quick spoken word – pushing for speed to grab the urgency of mania or #bipolar.
YouTube Video of the Spoken Word / Slam Poetry – apologies, my free plan doesn’t allow for direct posting of videos. This isn’t a gimmick to get you to click through,?” I just don’t have another means to share. Thank you for your time – I know you have a lot of quirky and unique folks and things to see online, we’re thrilled to have had your attention for more than 10 seconds and hope we can do even better the next time around, 😉
Why is always the question,
Regardless of the fucking answer.
Why did it happen?
Why is this the way it is?
Why do I not have this?
Why did I make that one choice?
Why is she gone?
Why are they not here?
Why am I stuck in this endless fucking cycle with no one to blame but myself.
Pity is the answer when there’s no one to answer back.
Regardless of the reason behind why,
Pity solves the unsolvable,
Pity for yourself feels like absolution,
Pity shames the word away,
Because pity lets the hurt ring true.
Whether it’s honest,
Or a cry for attention,
Pity is a thing that has meaning and passion,
Feeling not lessoned by the outside,
Rather enhanced by memories and dreams.
Pity cries that you regret,
But don’t want to be buried beneath all of your miserable self-hatred.
“Get off the pity pot.”
Idiotic fucking saying.
“Stop feeling bad that you destroyed your life.”
It’s grieving, one part perhaps.
Fuck you for telling me to “man up.”
I’ll get there.
But right now I’m a child embracing the need for a warm touch from someone who will tell me it’s okay.
Clearly that’s not you.
Or so many in “the rooms.”
Anger is a statement of action,
Which can burn to the point of liquid sunshine,
Or freeze the world in a halo of hatred.
Anger shows a path forward.
Anger lays out the choice to move someplace new.
To take the past in an embrace and crush it with disgust,
Use it as fuel to burn a path into the future.
It can smolder into bitterness and resentment,
Regret with rage shimmering outwards in an aura of disgust.
Either a tool for success,
Or the death sentence of purgatory by one’s own hand.
Ice yourself over with hate for what caused the pain,
What caused the frustration,
The devil on your back that whispers sweet nothings in your ear.
The misleading moment where you believe it.
The damning consequences of that instant.
And seething determination.
Fuel the burning demand to NEVER GO BACK.
To forge a road forward.
To lay waste to anything that stands between you and success.
Today I’ll try and remember to turn the flame towards where it truly belongs.
Crawl out from under my self-pity and depression,
Stop asking why,
Just take it all for what it is.
The past was what it was.
The future makes unknown moves to confound the game.
This moment has all the possibilities I will ever see.
And it’s time to stand proudly in it.
Raise flag and grit teeth.
I’m sick of this shit,
Forward the march into the question of tomorrow,
And damn yesterday for the last time,
It’s about time to win for a bit.
This might truly be the only surviving video of me participating in the one activity that used to hold my mind firmly in place. Rock climbing is an obsession over which I used to fiend, dream, and bathe in.
You earn the sore hands and muscles.
There is something satisfying beyond all reckoning when you finally complete a problem that has been stumping you for days, months, or hell, years. It’s a competition against yourself.
Maybe something I’ll be able to restart as the past fades deeper into, well, the past.