I have this fear
That one day I will be all alone
And the people I love the most
Will have moved on with their lives.
I have this fear that someday
I will look in the mirror
And see everything I loved about myself
Gone with age, replaced with hopelessness
And bitterness with a life lived
Unfulfilled and unsatisfied.
I have a fear that my legacy will be
Nothing but a whisper
A longing of being part of something bigger
But never having an inkling
On how achieve it.
I have a fear that my fears
Are the reason I am in this mindset,
But I am stuck because
I don’t know how to not be afraid .
So I have decided to make changes in my life and I have decided these changes have nothing to do with you. Why? Because if they did then I would have to deal with bigger things than changing my tiny leather couch which forces me to lie in a bent position or moving the hanging bookcase from atop my bed so as to avoid gravity’s ire. These are rational changes stemming from a desire to better one’s standard of living not from an irrational fear of potential embarrassment that you will see my sparsely decorated pad and judge. These are not the decisions of a woman who has found out you are coming back in town. They truly are not. And if you have-in the off-chance- heard I have renewed my gym membership AND began to hum in the office, that’s not about you either okay? I never canceled my membership to begin with… I just thought it’s time I start going again, AND the humming is inconsequential as it IS the holidays. It’s got nothing to do with you. Also, haven’t you been going to the gym all this time to, in someway, illicit a reaction from me? Were you not annoyed last time when I didn’t react? So there. At least this mess is making us healthier and helping to make better life choices. Cheers to silver linings.
In Denial and Renovating
I sought control of happiness, over at the piers by the river of life, all I found was a loneliness, tinged with uncertainty and a handful of strife. I gave up my perceptions of what it all should be, thought it would keep the confusion at bay, for a moment I thought I was happier, but then the fleeting bird of happiness went away.
Wise eyes mean nothing
If in a moment your immaturity shines through.
You talk a great talk and walk a great walk
But bring you something serious
And there lies the panic, painfully plain,
All the polish in the world can’t hide the inner kid.
But still you try,
You polish your face, Till it shines,
You polish your brain, Till it smarts.
You polish your feelings, Till they numb.
But they don’t numb,
They brood under the surface
Waiting for that first crack
In the polish surface
Through which to seep.
And you know what?
Fucking let it,
Let your face be myriad of emotions
Your brain a jumble of nerves
You feelings an emotional conduit
Polish is overrated
And the wise eyes
Are wise cause they see
Behind every polished facade
Is a shit storm you can’t wait to meet.
Increased life expectancy is a founding father of the epidemic known as “amoraphobia”. Amoraphobia*, a word I just invented, is a disease currently gripping “first-world” countries and leading to symptoms such as increased rates of casual hookups, breaking out into hives at the mention of relationships and rapid popularization of dating apps such as the highly controversial Tinder. Although this epidemic is mostly widespread amongst teenagers and adults in their 20s, recent research involving my friends circle show the beginning effects of the epidemic on older age groups. No cure has been discovered thus far, yet this concerned citizen believes that if everyone would just wear their big boy/girl pants and learn to deal with reality, there may be hope out there that someday we will all be rid of the rampant amoraphobia.
*Unless you are googling this and urban dictionary or some other random person stakes claim. In such a case, I retract my statement and give credit to whichever shady website claims to have coined the word.