Compromised Focus

Screaming in basements to avoid being heard,

Typing out thoughts so patience doesn’t have to be tested,

It’s all become so routine;

Figuring out how to make the loudest noise yet remain concealed

In an absent-minded and loud world.

Exhausted at the resonance of criticism,

Flattened by the glare of chosen ignorance,

My disdain for sleep is tested by my stronger desire to avoid people.

While my body will be in far worse pain if I lay down uselessly,

It’s better than the pain of being surrounded by people

whose interactions feel like they’re done out of duty rather than hospitality.

Why believe you’re in a group when the people make you feel lonely?

Why sit next to someone who seems as though they’re deaf to your voice only?

I’m confused as to what relationships are actually supposed to do,

Especially since people seem to favor conversations on screens involving icons and abbreviations,

Rather than human engagement and sound.

Why should I see you in person when I can see you just fine on my phone screen?

Don’t waste your touch You won’t feel anything



Thrown Against the Wall

I could’ve sworn I was excited,

Or at least I was convinced that I was trying to be “excited”.

Whatever that means.

I find that I’m constantly battling cynicism,

But usually my passions are never effected.

But in the past years,

Even my passions have suddenly become quieter than the cynicism yelling in my ears.

Suddenly the tenor of Pavoratti is akin to this cynicism

that is choking the life from any passion I have.

And there I am:

Lying on my apartment floor,

exhausted from stress,

Angry about being disillusioned.

Ultimately, I’m reminded of the other things stressing me out

Only making me want to stay on the floor;

But I get up

and no I’m not fine.

But the only way I can get through the next hour or so, is by saying that I’m fine if someone asks.

Am I lying?

To a degree, yes.

But I’m more trying to silence this voice always telling me that nothing is going to work out.

I hate to say it, but I definitely have in ways resolved to faking it in order to make it.

But I want both stop and start again anew by saying:

I’m done.

Some things will in fact, not work out.

But some will, they will actually at times work out better than I could ever fathom.

From small and more temporal things,

To important and at times tangible significant decisions.

In a weird way, we wouldn’t have problems in life if weren’t able to find solutions.

The only reason problems exist at all,

Is because we as humanity are masters of complaining and having completely short sighted perspective!

May we no longer use our eyes exclusively for decoration,

But may they be used to have vision and find direction.