Anger

I am almost certain that next Sunday there will be open mic at Java Monkey and that I, once again, will be a participant. I may even roll it out at Urban Grind the Thursday (I think) before, but I may just read the first one I read on stage again. I have a poem that only scratches the surface of how I am feeling at the moment, but I am SURE that a much deeper one is coming. I already know that the next one will probably not be meant for stages, as I am sure the sentiments contained within will not mirror too many people's hearts in the crowd. But, alas, that is the point of open mic poetry. I can say what the fuck I want.

I have been told multiple times that I am not the one being unreasonable. Its so hard to believe because of the person I am dealing with. If it were anyone, ANYONE else....this wouldn't even be going down because they would have been cut from my life like a machete infused abortion a long, long time ago. I no longer know what to do because everything I know to try fails. Its starting to break me. Not in a "that wild horse needs to be broken" way but more like a "my soul and spirit are broken to the point where I can't and no longer wish to recognize myself anymore" kind of way. Maybe those ways are exactly the same if we knew the horse's side.

So I'm full of anger (hence the title of the post). Anger at others and myself. Anger that I'm in this situation. Anger that I am the reason I am in this situation. Anger that I tell myself I am the reason I am in this situation when I know I am not the only contributing factor and that it was probably nowhere near my fault that I am in this situation. Anger at the economy. Anger at the schools I went to. Anger at people who read my resume and call me for an UNPAID internship when, CLEARLY, I've graduated. Anger at people who dangle jobs in front of my face, make me jive for them, and take them away when they decide I might actually be good at them. Anger at cigarettes. Anger that my brain can't allow itself to unblock the part of me that says I can't ever smoke anything. Anger at cigarette smokers. Anger at debt collectors. Anger at debt. Anger at the economy. Anger at whoever struck (or whatever they did) my cat and made him scared of everything besides him that moves. Anger at my necessary self-imposed exile to avoid more anger. Anger that my life in NOWHERE near where it was "supposed" to be right now. Anger that I even allowed myself to determine where my life was "supposed" to be right now to begin with.

So, that list could go on forever. Besides some of the petty things contained in it, there are some actual, real reasons to be angry. Since I have no/can't smoke any "fuckit", and I've yet to find a pill that actually and truly induces a "fuckit"-like feeling (that I'm willing to ingest), I drink. I probably wont drink a whole lot tonight, but nonetheless, I drink.

Fuckit.