She asked how I was doing. She always does. A simple ‘how are you’. A calm, curious, mild tempered creature offers such a typical question, and there inside my chest, the vines which live twisted around my sternum pull ever so tighter. There’s this grove west of mountains and north of the river where I can’t hide. Where hiding is impossible. Inside the grove a crow resides from time to time. From time to time I meet with the crow. And that very first ‘how are you?’ tears down my armour, because I know I don’t have to wear it in this grove. The crow is patient as I grow used to the vines squeezing my sternum and ribs. I cannot relax them, they have a mind of their own, I simply must exist with them. I’ve learned to feel the panic but keep being honest. I’ve learned to feel the vines tightening and keep choking out the truth. I get an hour of the crow’s time, and even at the last second I can still feel the vines squeezing, pulling. She asked how I was doing, and after taking the initial squeeze, I answered enterally stressed.
Eternally stressed, that's how I feel. Like I was born into stress, grew up in stress, have dealt with stress my entire adulthood, and will eventually die and probably wake up to some new fucking stress. Eternally stressed. I don’t know why I feel everything so everlastingly right now. Why everything feels so final. Like there is no end. And this is just the beginning. Or is it? Or has the world been burning ever since it started turning? Therefore, solidifying the fact that I’ve lived enterally stressed. We all have been. It’s been a shitshow since we gained whatever consciousness is. Eternally stressed. It’s final after death, and this stress will end. Or will it? No one has come back to tell us what the fuck happens, therefore we could literally wake up to do human existence all over again, eternally stressed. I should write a poem concerning my eternal stress, alas rambling paragraphs of crows and groves is what you get instead.
The soldier in me… soldier because we are in a class war… the soldier in me that wants to fight fascism is defeated at the moment. There’s too much going on inside my head that I need to take a break from the outside world. The world outside my county. I need to keep my world super small right now, and I know that’s a privilege. I recognize this. I take in the national and world news in small doses during the day. It becomes overwhelming, because the tragedies that the oligarch is committing is mindfucking. The fact that we just let some douche canoe billionaire create a department of government without any congressional approval, and then go take said department full of other douche canoes, and be given access to working class private citizens information and payment information is an illegal assault on private citizenry.
It’s taken me a week to erratically piece together this bullshit that is this post. There is something in the air. Tension. Pent up energy. An anger fueled by oppression. Oppression fueled by the rich. The fascist oligarchy breaks laws almost every day. They are unstable. Their money and power too great. The pent up oppression will become too much eventually. Anger cannot grow forever. It will explode. If they push us enough we will revolt. I don’t know how the revolution is going to play out, but I can feel it coming. It’s only a matter of time now. What will come first? Will it be climate disaster of worldly proportions or a proletariat revolution of worldly proportions - which will reach us first is anyone’s guess. So I stay eternally stressed. At a loss for words of coherency. Eternally stressed. Anyone relate?
comrade h
Comments
Post a Comment