quarterly profit from our misery
paid for by passing the torch
spent sitting on the front porch
Not who you are
Become that person by doing those things that that better version of you would do.
Have “the life you’ve always wanted.” Go ahead, go.
Easy peasy, they said.
Two times in recent history (ancient history would be the days of my youth ), I’ve witnessed in print the declaration by women supposedly of my demographic (more on that later) that yes, in fact, they did have it all.
I didn’t stick around to find out the fucking imperative of a caveat like, but certainly not limited to, “the problem was what to do with it,” or equally as reprehensible,”But I just wasn’t happy.”
The resounding chatter from the committee in my head (you know the ones who update the mistakes made ticker tape spewing continuously forth from a dot matrix printer) enacts the dormant PRIMAL SCREAM policy although if I were to demonstrate, if might be received as a call to all crazies to meet for a smoke in the alley.
So instead, when I read, “I had it all/career, family, Buick” as the lead for their book, article, thesis, self-serving self-help romance novel
Instead of screaming the primal way
I curl up into a ball
a little each time