Saturday, November 23, 2024

Typical Post

The problem is that I want to write fiction.
Like my lungs give out after a few flights of steps so do my thoughts. Never made it pass the adolescent fan fiction stage a f I'm racing to the big moment where they kiss. I'm forever haunted by the Maguire-Dunst upside in the rain Spiderman kiss. This whole thing is a wrestling match with me running to hit the big spots.

I want to write poetry and, problem is, it won't rhyme or scaffold into anything seeming elegance.
 
The problem is my mid life crisis. The painful realization that I peaked and, look at our world. My children are still young and my best days are behind me.  It makes me navel gaze and seek solace in trinkets I didn't make but provide the smallest dip of dopamine.

I'm lonely and surrounded by a family. The problem is my job and how it shouldn't be a problem but the lack of fulfillment feeds the search for it in things and likes. Upvotes on reddit or likes on Teams fill my soul and I put myself out there  over sharing and leaving a digital trail of a spinning statistic.
 
The problem is letting myself be gutted and heart broken by things that shouldn't. They don't have the right or it's not that a big a deal, right? But, it happens. I did run into a former co worker and said "I miss you. So much" and I broke filled with regret and rage that our hug had no mirth just bristling detection. I do too. I'm sorry. It'll be ok. You are much stronger than me. That wasn't the problem

These posts get two views and I dream it's a lonely single loyal fan. Then, the problem is, I imagine it's my enemies, snickering in the back or my boss with HR. 

My children will be ok. My wife is a treasure. They share all.her strengths and learn her nuances and hobbies. Mine all are being good enough to know why you lost at the game or why the bread didn't rise or this story sucks. 

The problem is there isn't one but I still fell beset on all sides. 

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