I’ve seen a fair few films that all merge into one big reel so I can’t really go through film titles. And I’ve read a fair few books with this kind of narrative too.
The main character is relatable with their grumpiness (at least to me) they’re emotionally closed off, numb often depressed characters who push the other characters away…
One thing they all have in common is that they end with this:
The character realises they want to live and that they are learning to ‘enjoy life’ and be in the moment more. Tha’s not what leaves me wondering, ‘why the fuck?’ though, it’s this bit… They always come to a conclusion that they want to live life to the full and part of doing that is feeling EVERYTHING there is to be felt, including painful moments, loss, grief. Cue montage of them going through all the different feels from amazed, happy, grief-stricken, adrenaline rush, crying, laughing etc….
And all I can think is, Why? Why would you want to feel all there is to feel? Why? On what part of this god forsaking world would anyone in their right mind want to feel all the things there are to feel?!
Grief? Nah, let’s just skip that! Yea?
Let’s become a psychopath!
It’s now that I end this post saying: fuck life. And in the words of Donald Trump (probably) Fuck it biggly!
day 15: Problems I couldn’t mend
I wanted to be pink sky
telling of future calm
instead, I was grey
with heavy cumulonimbus clouds
seeking to vent
unable to ease your burdened heart
because these were problems I couldn’t mend
day 14: sorrow
Even simple cumulus clouds
can seem like they’re pregnant with storms
as they mark time in the sky
when you feel alien and heavy
with sorrow, you’re trying to hide
when there is an ocean weighing down your stomach
and tidal waves rising up to your throat
it doesn’t matter that the sun is shining up there, up high
all that matters is the tide
of the emptiness inside
Day 13 Life is one big hollow scream
Life is one big hollow scream
of nothingness
consuming itself
over and over again
Day 12, Sunday wordle
Time is a flutter in the eye
The blink of a wing
That words and symbols measure
To mark the shifts in decades
Stories written and rewritten
To haunt the years
In the hopes of a spark
To light up lanterns
To float as if on water
Fluttering through time
Day 11: Disjointed
Disjointed
Looking at the world
In picasso focus
Fragmented imaginations
Building on the scaffolding
Of previous creations
The evolution of mind
Disordered memories
Fast forward and rewind
But always out of sync with the times
And they’re always there to remind
But they’re never quite right
These Picasso paintings
In the mind
Day 10: Black tongues
I’m a discombobulated, disembodied
automated automaton
an assorted medley
a conglomeration
running numbers
trying to find my station
and there I was
between their eyes
caught in their squawk
at home amongst the black tongues
Advent calendar 9: Something about you
There’s something about you
that pulls me through
trudging through the winters gloom
there is a spark in your eyes
I can see myself through
you might be the light
at the end of the tunnel
if I was small enough
I’d hide in your covert feathers
and we could fly
to another muse
Bonus December poem was written off the cuff after reading comments online.
You know all the things
you know everything
you can read between the lines
people like me are just blind
I know, I know
The government is incompetent
and it’s also pulling off the greatest conspiracy
of all time
Don’t you know?
And I know, I know
what you’re gonna say
‘you’re a sheeple, yea, you’re a sheeple’
well I guess it’s got the same syllables as people
but you’re just robots
dreaming of the sheep
And you keep saying you’re having a great time
unlike us, you say, as if you know
oh
Go ahead and have the greatest of times
I really don’t mind
but in the end….
you’re still….
a fucking…..
twat.
Advent calendar 8: Made in your image
You always were able to draw the monster in me
a perfect portrait of him
lines drawn
crossing me out
so I’d become your creation
Made in your image
