I don’t get all this poetry business that I’m trying to pull off and I don’t get trying to be a university student, and what’s more an “honors” student, and still be trying to pull off this poetry business. When people talk to me, I feel like they’re not talking to me. They’re talking to my sisters. Focus here, on the rarity.
I often ask myself how my conception of time is doing. It’s shot through. Used to be some impressive material made of titanium, embossed in gold and shit. Now it’s scrap metal on the floor, an ineffective shield that I step over in the morning and have to go without in a bullet-ridden, anxious world.
I often ask myself whether I’d like to be alone or whether I’d like to be with someone else, and the answer is I always want to be with someone else, whether it’s family or friend or just out in the world where there are other people.
I don’t get a lot of the mumbo jumbo they feed you in high school. Or the mumbo jumbo they feed us from the second we’re born, what with the social conditioning. Lately, I’ve started playing this game where I’ll imagine conversations between myself and a higher up, and how he (read: it’s always a he) will say something like “It’s not possible”, but then I, the agitator, the rogue, will say, “We just did it.”
How’s your conception of time doing?
My advice is: you gotta aim straight over all the traffic.
You gotta remember that the fog of authority is all up in your shit. You gotta be the agitator, cut through it with your bs binoculars.
Confused, mami? Don’t be confused.
Stressed, mami? Don’t be stressed.
Like I said, I don’t get all this poetry business that I’m trying to pull off. I used to be a lot more lenient with the categories that I would give to people, saying at one point that the things we do (fixing our hair, running for the elevator, taking a bite to eat, washing our hands, talking to others, driving home from work in our cars in rush hour traffic…) was poetic. And that everyone had a poem to them, even though they didn’t know it. Now, I see faces, but I also don’t see them? You know, it’s getting harder for me to categorize and deal with the silt and the petty fodder of every day. I used to be better at that. Before the clock stopped and I could hear the clicking of its broken gears.
I used to be a lot better of a Word-Handler. I used to know my own mind more. I barely recognize it these days.
I don’t get…how change is the only permanent thing, and that applies to identity, too– There was a time they were beating me over the head with this identity business. Another time it was the idea, ‘death’, they beat me with. –And I don’t get how like just when you get used to someone that you really need in your life, they disappear from you.
I don’t get this whole malware, technology thing we’ve got going on? Safesearch. I accidentally downloaded that shit today. I’m pretty sure I managed to get it all off. But seriously, my Mac is my most prized possession. That and my prescription acne gel. One’s to continue this journey of life long learning, the search for wisdom, and the other, vanity.
I do understand the yin yang symbol, at least I think I do. That’s what’s going to help me do this. That’s what’s going to make me better. I like to think that within the wisdom, there is vanity, and within the vanity, there wisdom is.