The math of story

I have been telling you the absolute truth and it’s not my fault that you never want to hear it.

I have screamed the truth from rooftops,

to no avail.

 

I have sent smoke signals

by way of

carrier

passenger

pigeon

to you

in your

dreams

 

to no avail

 

I have said the truth

as plain as day

but you

always

are

first

to

look

away.

64-71

doesn’t really matter

These things
I consider
From
Your off-hand
Manner
Calling your bluff
Could be
enjoyable
But
Then
Your chaos
Would ensue

 

 

and that

would

be

unbearable

 

and

you know

it

but

won’t

admit

it since

you run

whenever asked

a follow

up

question

 

now,

don’t you?

That is all good and well

but

in

your

hands

it’s

still empty

 

The end is always the beginning

and this all started with

sitting around

on my hands

panicking

why do you add a “k” to panic?

why? who makes these rules? I just want to know.

 

But if I knew, I suppose I’d be disinterested.

 

At this point, the best I can hope for is to be almost as good a writer as all the writers I love and study and emulate. At this point, all I can say is if someone threw a kid at me, I’d take care of it better than you would expect, because I would be better at taking care of someone else than myself, always have been, and that is perhaps the thing I most lack. At this point, I have said it all over and over again, but I suppose I could be accused of never being clear, never resolute in my decision to tell anyone the absolute worn out, baton down the hatches truth, because I know they simply couldn’t handle it. Whenever I tell anyone my ‘story,’ so to speak, they either know NOT what to say, say something dreadfully pitying or judgmental, both of which make me want to punch them in the face, or they somehow reveal that although they could possibly be intrigued, it would be after I was already dead. Eponymous is always the way to go with writing.

 

Unless you’re in love with it. As I am, and have always been. Squirreling it away in the fall out shelter because someday someone is going to come along and use it to start a fire.

 

 

Or perhaps the problem was not so much one of lack of skills as of fit. If you found yourself frustrated by the organization’s constant demands for quick, one-off solutions unlikely to add value over the long term, you may be a “craftsman” who’ll do better in a slower-paced company where management values well-designed and thoroughly integrated programs. Or if you found that constantly communicating and vetting your ideas in a large, bureaucratic organization was tedious, perhaps you should consider a smaller, more entrepreneurial company.

Once you’ve gleaned the two or three key lessons you should draw from your experience, move forward and don’t wallow in self-doubt or what might have been. You don’t want to ignore important messages about what will be required to succeed in your next job or that will help you target the best type of organization. However, your most valuable commodity is self-confidence. so don’t let that be eroded. As painful as your departure may be, with the right attitude and reflection you’ll take away some important lessons that can give direction and focus to the rest of a highly successful career.

They shut you down unless you’re

Safe.

 

And it’s creepy, what can be done.

 

Muse-bunker.com 10

made of clay 51

Time Suck (in my opinion, largely for the words TIME and SUCK as the lead words be cause most people respond to those in some visceral way) 74

Polaroid Concepts: the Board 40

semi-top secret so that’s okay

a.m. ongoing 57

evening continuous 64

Sisyphus considers 52

and

finally

the one that always perplexes me but

I can’t put my finger on why

in a tangible

agile

sense

the kind I would like now

will they find me just thru that one thing and now I can’t even write crap poems that I put out there coz I don’t actually think they’re crap, not all of them, and they’re much better when I read them out loud, and I get all of you confused, so best not to try to understand or get too close, I am fine with a certain set of rules and can be quite useful in a myriad of situations. I basically am my own pimp at this point and I can say that I know market values. Just don’t write the name and number together anywhere in public.

 

my clay concepts are next to be amalgamated

consolidated

like the threesome brownie mixed message

i don’t know

how it is

that i have

always been

able to

disguise

my actual

state

of being

but it

comes from

hiding

at a very

young age

and i don’t like that word

very any

more than

you do

but sometimes

to fit

the vernacular

or the drum beat chant to the lips

or the hips

or wherever your brain matter moves

when it goes somewhere human

since I have now basically reduced it to

human and

non-human alien evil in the shape and

format of dick cheney, karl rove, those who slay children and use their wives as shields, or harm anyone willfully- it’s so obvious who the humans are. For now. the flawed ones.

the ones without sugar plum fairy woes

i suppose

the ones

by far

who

never

get

too close

 

And

had you

ever

asked

before

today

I would

have said

no

way

I am always

open

to the

signs

of

love

 

 

But

it’s

better

this

way.