Mike Is - just a fastfood knight
And this is the difference
when I sit down now
and write
I am the only one in it.
The best things I read, the stories the poems...I look, and I see myself
which means when someone else reads what I am writing
they should see themselves.
There isnt anyone in here but me.
That's the difference between this mopey diary bullshit
and poetry.
Thoughts on watching Good Will Hunting
I wish I was more in there than I think I am
or
I wish I was in there
I think I wasted all the concern the world has offered up to me
there is a sick place in me that I think I am exactly where my therapists would assume I would be
working so hard at being lonely, so badly walled off -
if I, for once, give them the credit of ever having seen me at all.
That's not me, I dont think.
Find me a book that explains why the water means so much
the window, the wind, the coast -
why the inside of my head is so much easier than the other options
it takes a lot of effort to be alone
you have to push a lot of people.
what do I know? what can I be sure of?
I wonder what the teachers actually thought - memory is not safe, here
it is not enough. I am too clever at adjusting it, it is too malleable a resource
I just remember being told
that I am wasting my potential
and I wonder, if they expected not to reach me
and would feel validated to know
if in thinking they would not
did not try so hard
if they would remember me at all
if in remembering, they would be surprised that I have gone so long
and done so very very little.
does everyone go around thinking they have so much of it figured out
and doing so little with that figuring.
Poorly have I handled love
and I wonder how much more there is to be offered
what I have to change
to notice at the right time.
I have pent my money foolishly,
or on myself
and in carrying the thing I have held most dearly
ideals, morals
a sense of what is right to expect of others
I have chased away many of the friends
that many would expect
to help carry these things.
it isnt what I said to you
it is what you heard
it was never what you told me
it was only what I thought you said.
when I sit down now
and write
I am the only one in it.
The best things I read, the stories the poems...I look, and I see myself
which means when someone else reads what I am writing
they should see themselves.
There isnt anyone in here but me.
That's the difference between this mopey diary bullshit
and poetry.
Thoughts on watching Good Will Hunting
I wish I was more in there than I think I am
or
I wish I was in there
I think I wasted all the concern the world has offered up to me
there is a sick place in me that I think I am exactly where my therapists would assume I would be
working so hard at being lonely, so badly walled off -
if I, for once, give them the credit of ever having seen me at all.
That's not me, I dont think.
Find me a book that explains why the water means so much
the window, the wind, the coast -
why the inside of my head is so much easier than the other options
it takes a lot of effort to be alone
you have to push a lot of people.
what do I know? what can I be sure of?
I wonder what the teachers actually thought - memory is not safe, here
it is not enough. I am too clever at adjusting it, it is too malleable a resource
I just remember being told
that I am wasting my potential
and I wonder, if they expected not to reach me
and would feel validated to know
if in thinking they would not
did not try so hard
if they would remember me at all
if in remembering, they would be surprised that I have gone so long
and done so very very little.
does everyone go around thinking they have so much of it figured out
and doing so little with that figuring.
Poorly have I handled love
and I wonder how much more there is to be offered
what I have to change
to notice at the right time.
I have pent my money foolishly,
or on myself
and in carrying the thing I have held most dearly
ideals, morals
a sense of what is right to expect of others
I have chased away many of the friends
that many would expect
to help carry these things.
it isnt what I said to you
it is what you heard
it was never what you told me
it was only what I thought you said.