Poetry
This is the general category of fuckery that goes on and on and doesn’t seem interested in stopping.
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Why can’t I just get along with no money?
Working is killing me already
I’m so sick of living half alive for the privilege of having a roof over my head and food and medication.
I feel so over done
My body has been screaming at me to stop but I keep going anyways because I need the money.
It’s sick
It’s sick and twisted and anyone who reads this and thinks disabled people are supported enough in this world
Should probably end up disabled
Which, haha
Most elderly person have some kind of disability so have fun existing in this world you decided was okay when it gets you
My wrath is a tightly kept secret
That I want every person who mistreated me to feel how I felt
It’s fine I keep it to myself
I just wish this world was better for everyone
No comments on -
All these people shocked about the amount of smoke
Because it’s New York right? Surely the rich people paid enough for Mother to give them clean air right?
Await my supreme eye roll
You’ve only been allowing companies to continue to do exactly the same things and then things ten times worse for the past 50 years
Making fun of all the groups trying to tackle it because climate change was a joke
Well, there you go, you got exactly what you asked for, which is hell fire. Smoke comes from hell fire, enjoy.
They called me bleeding heart tree hugger
And now there are no trees to clean their air
Lucky it wasn’t us this year because
Spoiler alert
This was already happening five years ago!
In the middle of my insanity the sky turned red and I believed I’d caused it
There’s no forgetting that shit
But, no. Nothing.
At the very least perhaps some rich people will be inspired to try to help
Except it’s already too late
They didn’t hear the alarm bell ten years ago that said we had three years to completely change or else
Poor unfortunate souls living in the hell they created and uphold
Then they decided to set it on fire
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You can find empathy in so many places
I don’t know if bugs do it, but mammals do.
Even predators under the right conditions, perhaps it’s just that it’s the right being
Sharks show attachments to humans, and there must be some empathy, some connection as beings that they feel for that to happen
But saying I’m empathic often provokes derision
Saying that I am an empathetic being that often understands and takes on people’s emotions
I wonder if it’s the hate of being understood or the hate of people who understand
Don’t get me started on energies
If you can’t read them you can’t know what it’s like to read them
Just like a cis person will never understand gender dysphoria in trans people
Unlived experiences can be listened to like a story
The emotions provoked by the experience can be understood
The experience itself is personal to whomever lived it
I wonder if it’s wrong to understand emotions
Not that I always understand my own
That’s more of a mental block than anything
I feel everything so strongly
The people I cannot understand are those who have little emotion
The ones who don’t feel things as strongly as I do
I wonder if being empathic is a skill or a detriment
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Me: I probably shouldn’t stare at the sun
Also me: Does exactly that
There you go again going
Wearing the clouds like a sexy little shroud
Look at you being all orange as you dip down into the where I cannot go
Always beyond that line that separates where I am and where I cannot be
If I could chase you I would
Live in a never ending day
Moving at a speed just enough to make the world stop turning
You’re magnificent you know
I hope you know
I’d stare into the remnants of you on my retinas any day
I’m sure I’ll be hiding from you tomorrow
You big beautiful ball of fire you
Counting the minutes until you’re back again nevertheless
As you dip behind the hill and another day is over
This is one tale of a sunset that was told
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Do you practice religion?
I practice something
If saying good morning and good night to the sun each day is practising
If taking a moment to acknowledge our Earth and all the things she could have given us is practising
If collecting rocks and feathers and bug wings and plant pieces is practising
I practice knowing the cycle of the full moon, the four segments of our solar journey
I practice acknowledging the way the planets have affected us
I practice not killing bugs and not harming creatures
I practice knowing the seasons and how they should be, not how they’ve become
I practice being decent, being as good as I can be
It’s my religion, not anyone else’s
And I don’t expect anyone else to care
But I’m living it
And it brings me peace
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There doesn’t seem to be rhyme or reason to this lingering affection
It seems to stem from being one of my few safe places
Perhaps
Maybe I listened too close to the words
Once imagined myself in them
I wonder what I’d do
If you were infront of me?
Living lonely doesn’t sit
How I wish I had someone else to see
Even if you’d still creep in
It’s very uncomfortable
Having someone you’ve never met being the most pivotal person in your life
Like how do I reconcile that with real life?
All this and real life
Might not even be a good thing to know you anyways
I wish I was doing better
So I’d have something to offer
Besides peculiar attachments to figments
Elucidating Questions 