Me, ranting opinions on my opinions

Ehhh, I don’t even think this counts as a poem. It’s just me venting again. It hurts to post! I should have a “hurts to post” category.

 

 


 

 

My own personality exhausts me.

I’ve had it up to here with myself.

I know all my tricks.

How can anyone give a shit what I’m saying?

Maybe I’m trying too hard.

No, that’s not right

Maybe I’m retrospecting too hard.

Blah blah blah all I have to offer are opinions

Ten day sale only! SO CHEAP SO FREE

If that doesn’t make you want them then try this on for size

Free baseball cap with my face stamped on it

Free t shirts also with my face

This one is of my cats, got a lot of merch related to that.

Merchandise. Mercenary. Merch. Merc.

Buy my shit

Take my shit free

What I’m selling

Is charisma

Long lasting brand

It’s guaranteed to smell up your living room

For a full six hours.

 

Haha… I have a Boring Complex

Is this why I write?

No… when I don’t write, this is the reason why

Because of my Boring Complex

This is why I write when I’m alone

This is why it’s hard to share my stuff

And the funny thing is I know I’m not boring

I’m super weird

But I still have this fear

Just like I know that the harness will catch my fall

But I’m still afraid to rock climb too high.

Phobias

Phobias are stupid.

There are so many things in life

Which are stupid.

 

I think I wore myself out yesterday trying to impress

I had my good poem posted and reposted and complimented and discussed

I was on my best behavior

I can be really good when I need to

But OH MY GOD I’m exhausted

New people, compliments, this and that

Let me put on my big fake face and say how I love their compliments

But I don’t love compliments

I am too crazy for that

I love them as people for making the compliments

I love their sweet intentions

I love that the poem touched them

But noooo compliments make me crazy

See? Look at me right now. Crazy.

 

I decided when I started this blog to be brutally honest

To practice who I am

My writer side which I always hid

My emotional side which frightens and confuses me

My opinionated side which risks being wrong

All the gooey parts.

 

So I got a few new followers

They’ve seen my magnum opus to date

I WILL disappoint

But if I’m not allowed to be a hack

The writing won’t be fun anymore.

 

Oh god I’m gonna make myself post this aren’t I.

Well, new followers. Consider yourself warned. Hopefully you enjoy the smell

 

 

 

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17 comments

  • I wouldn’t mind seeing your Magna Opus!!!! LOL.

    Liked by 2 people

  • No worries, Sarah. I don’t expect no magnum opus every time. I don’t even expect anything interesting all the time. I have for you very low standards….wait…hold on…it wasn’t meant to sound that way.

    Seriously, you’d already impressed me as a good person, a person worth knowing, long before your war poem, and — oddly enough — your war poem didn’t impress me more with you, it only impressed me as a poem.

    I pray you just have fun doing whatever you want to do. Screw the praise. Have fun.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Thanks Paul. I know people don’t expect these things… it’s great that you have low standards for me! Of course the problem is myself, my own standards, but it’s typical human behavior to deflect blame, so I’ll blame all the people who complimented me. Makes sense right?

      This blog is great for my personal growth. I need to be able to deal with compliments, or success, or negativity, or whatever comes along. This is like a little microcosm where I encounter situations, then practice and apply coping strategies. I really am fairly composed and cheerful in real life!

      Anyway, thank you for being so nice to me. You are a fascinating person too, and I don’t expect anything great to come from you either, haha! Hugs ❤

      Liked by 2 people

  • Sarah,
    What comes through the filter or lack of filter via my brain is something that I often find I had very little to do with other than type as it formed. I don’t dare ignore it when it demands that I sit and write it down or type it up, either! Call it the muse or aliens sending me messages that I transcribe as they dictate. Or God. Or call it a fart from the Universe. The point is, sometimes I write something that makes me shiver because I can’t believe it came out of me and sometimes I can’t put two words together without wanting to scream. The muse/alien/fart/God laughs at my feeble attempts. So I do the only reasonable thing to do in this situation. I give the Glory and the Blame to God. I am but a minion. If I do my job right, whatever comes out will disappoint or will outrage or will make people laugh or will make someone cry, or will make someone feel or think or cause confusion or chaos or order or…what’s left? But the message was meant to be. And if I didn’t write it, well I’m sure muse/alien/fart/God would find someone else more willing. When others write and I really like what they write, I think they know how to listen really well and type pretty damned good too. However, as I said before,I think that whatever it was I read or appreciated was meant to be written either by you or someone else. And it was meant for me to read or appreciate. When you take your ego out, you can enjoy the product. When you keep your ego in, then chances are you’ve given yourself permission to beat yourself up when you did nothing wrong or you might take glory that was never yours to take in the first place. Accept that like every human who is in touch with that which is creative and, perhaps, sometimes divine, you are but a willing slave to that and be humbled and proud of being called to service. Most things are beyond our ability to control. To try and do so is always going to be as absurd as believing that we came up with something awesome or something awful. It comes through us. It is not us and we are not it. So I hope that if one iota of any of this makes any sense to you, it will give you both comfort as well as a swift kick. Enjoy it for whatever it’s worth. If someone likes or doesn’t likes something, let them take it up with your boss/muse/alien/fart/God.
    I probably sound crazy. But then maybe that’s what it takes to write. So cheers, my fellow madwoman! Cheers to madness and creativity and writing and getting to be a tiny part of it! If you make money at it, extra cheers to you!

    Mona

    Liked by 1 person

    • I can’t believe I understood what you just said!!! I am nothing more nor less than a cosmic fart medium. Thank you, it does take the pressure off!
      It doesn’t often happen with writing, maybe when I get good enough it will. But it happens with drawing all the time. I’ll finish drawing something and lean back and go, “Who just drew that!? Pretty sure it wasn’t me.” Haha

      Liked by 1 person

  • Sounds like my mind chatter sometimes 🙂 Except I’m not brave enough to post it

    Liked by 1 person

  • Don’t worry, Sarah. You’re just a people pleaser, simple as that. You’ve reached a new level and are afraid you can’t please the new people. You’re very lovable, even the gritty parts. Everyone has gritty parts.

    Liked by 1 person

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