Lots of heinous shit has happened in the past few months alone. I hear of some people saying “I give up…” “I don’t want to live on this planet anymore…” “This country will never bounce back…” For me, I just can’t be that pessimistic. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to take a stand for what I think is right. In the past, I’ve marched, I’ve rallied, I’ve signed petitions, and, more recently, wrote poems for the things I believe in. In light of the recent tragedies in both Orlando and Dallas, I wrote yet another poem on staying strong during times like this…only to find out I wrote something similar two years ago. And with the same title I was going to use for my latest.
Here’s the old version of it.
Looking back at this, I think this poem was more about my own struggles as opposed to the struggles of society. (By the way, if some lines there sound choppy, it’s because it is; I edited out a few lines, as I didn’t want them public.) I aimed to be more inclusive with the updated version of this poem:
I will say that the poem above is my first one I’ve written in almost a year. Yep, I’ve been too busy with work and writing this book I just finished editing that I haven’t had the time to spew some lines and rhymes. I’m still a poet and I know it! And while I know these poems aren’t going to change the world for the better, that I’m acknowledging what’s truly happening in our world is, at least, better than, oh, “singing” about partying on the weekend and don’t steal mah boyfriend *autotune* uh-OH uh-OH. Seriously, where are the mainstream songs from today that are speaking out on society’s troubles?
Another thing I wanted to share that fits with the theme of this entry is the shit that happened to me recently. (Get some popcorn ready, for I got a story to tell!)
Yesterday was quite a hellish day. I ended up working a full day–meaning five massages without a real break in between. I got punked by some kid disguising himself as a mannequin at a thrift store (to which I said to him “bless your talented heart”, so I guess we’re even there since he don’t know shade). I had to put up with some idiot drivers on the road who don’t know where the hell they’re going. And, for the cherry pie on top, I cut myself in the palm of my hand while trying to break apart some frozen burgers. Right now is the only time I have for myself without worrying over anything, and I have to get to bed soon since I work tomorrow. Cheezus.
I panicked like hell when I cut myself; I never had a bad cut like that before, and I thought I had to go to ER to get stitched. Turns out the cut wasn’t that bad. At least it stopped bleeding some minutes later. It’s still going to be a bit tricky when I go to massage tomorrow, though I don’t massage with the palms of my hands the whole time. Once things started healing up, and I started calming down did I realize this: as much of a big-steaming-pile-of-horse-excrement day I had, things could’ve been worse. Hell, had that knife aimed lower, like to my wrists, THAT would’ve sucked even more. I could’ve gotten into some serious road rage with those idiot drivers. I could’ve slaughtered that kid in front of everyone instead of played it cool, as I don’t take kindly to being punked at all. (Nonetheless, that little shit better run and hide.)
For all of my complaints and worries, I’m one to believe there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. I’m just not one to cower and quit. I think I got this determination over time, since I know I didn’t have this 15 years ago. I wish my younger self had more courage and willpower, and there are still times when I don’t assert myself these days. Nonetheless, no matter what, I stay strong. I guess there was an upside to being bullied and denied and snubbed during my childhood. You simply get tired of it, and standing up for yourself is a lot more gratifying–at least for me.
I will also say that, save for a near-drowning when I was seven, I’ve yet to experience something devastating in my life. (And I hope I did not curse myself with this!) I have some friends that went through far worse shit than me. But that doesn’t mean what I went through that made me who I am today isn’t meaningful. Those same friends think I’m “lucky,” for not going through things like a family member of mine getting shot or dying. Ha, but I’m not naive to think my “luck” will last me till I hit the grave.
Finally, this is one of my songs I listen to when I need that morale boost. It also gets me dancin’!
Hmm, I revealed plenty here. But. you know, even this snarky, hard-up hor has a soul.