Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

Do I deserve to be happy?

I don’t know how to forgive myself, and I’ve been so down on myself for so many years, I accepted that I probably won’t ever be able to forgive myself. Some days I can face this realization without any fuss, but in my weaker moments my mind wanders, and I end up dreaming of stupids things I know are forever out of my reach.

I want a family. I want to fall in love, to give everything I have to make something spectacular. I want to spoil my future spouse the day after Valentine’s with 50% of chocolates. I want to spend holidays with in-laws where they critique my mashed potatoes for being half butter. I want to have a daughter and I want to spend Sunday morning with her doing the crossword puzzle in the New York Times. I want to attend my kids high school graduations, and I want to help them move into their college dorms. I want to walk my daughter down the aisle on her wedding day. I want to grow old with the person I love, and I want to be surrounded by my family when I pass away.

I don’t want to be rich or famous. I don’t need to be in the best health, and I don’t need to live until I’m 80. I just want to live a life where I’ve spent more time with a smile on my face than without one.

But I don’t deserve that life. I wish I could convince myself that I can earn it, but I’m almost 30 and I’m still alone. I forced everybody out, because I was determined not to give myself any chance of finding my own happiness. I made sure I crushed my hopes and dreams, and yet… I can’t stop having the same dream, every night, and it’s driving me insane…

I keep dreaming of that family, of that life I can’t have, and while watching that family in my dreams hurts more than anything I ever thought possible, it also gives me the faintest amount of hope… but I can’t take it anymore. I either need to find a way to forgive myself so I can seek out this happiness, or I need to put an end to the dreams, once and for all.

Thus, I come back to the pivotal question: Do I deserve to be happy? I’ve been mulling this over for 3 days straight with no sleep, and I still have no fucking clue. So maybe somebody else can just tell me, one way or another. I just need to know..

Posted in My Daily Adventures, My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

I just wanted our summer to last forever. I would have given you anything, done absolutely anything, if only you would have promised me you’d stay…

You are a sunburn; you came with happy times spent in sunny days, and you left me with the coming of autumn and the bright orange leaves. So were you ever really there? Will I have any physical reminders of your love on my person? I once heard that every cell in our entire body is destroyed and replaced every seven years. So in a short seven years I will have a body that you will have never touched… and that thought is both beautiful and the saddest fucking thing I have ever heard.

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

“My chemical makeup makes it impossible to forget you, but I’m hoping that with time I’ll remember the me that existed without you..”

There is no happiness in the world, just a series of paths that grow progressively darker as more time passes. In the end, it culminates into something so black, you can’t see anything moving forward, and you can’t see anything when you look back, so your left choking on empty memories, and in that dark womb you’ll wonder if anything has ever happened to you that would have made life worth experiencing this cruel, crushing, relentless weight… And even at the end, when I have nothing left but pain and regret, I close my eyes and somehow catch a glimpse of who I used to be. It’s only a reflection, but it’s real, and I know that at some point in my life I was able to smile…but this is a reflection, so I can’t ignore the eyes in which I see the reflection… At the end of all things, where I’m alone in a universe that doesn’t care, I can’t go to sleep without seeing your face…and it hurts…it hurts so goddamn much…

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., Poetry, The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

“So although I might like it for one afternoon, I don’t want to live on the Moon…”

My lover, the crescent moon,

A lunar light who wanes

As my time passes,

But never fully fades.

I’ve carved my soul

To match your curves;

The sight of which

Heralds me to your evening.

Waiting through midnight

For a shift in the nebula,

I seek neither the secrets

Of the shaded sky,

Nor the calming whisper

Of a trillion stars;

I am fixated solely on your luster.

Perhaps the truth is that

I am more water than man,

As you can pull me

Away from my shores,

Knowing I’ll always rush back

When you call.

Ah, my crescent moon,

The loveliest of thieves,

Snaring your shine from the Sun,

And fashioning a heart

From this foolish man

Made from the Sea.

I am yours.

By my very nature

I can never deny you,

Not a single drop.

My crescent Moon,

There will never come to pass

A moment in this life

Where I could ever

Tell you no.

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

“I’ve tried leaving my heart free to wander, but everytime…every single time…it always comes back…to you.”

I wanted us to be happy, but I also had an unhealthy definition of happiness. I thought of everything we were, and made it into everything you were. I did things that might make you smile, wrote poems that would light up your eyes. I was content to make your happiness my happiness.

But that just showed how little I understood about life, love, and friendship . You loved me, I know you did, so what would happen to you if you continued to see me giving up my everything just for you? I know you wanted to shower me in love, but I didn’t give you a chance. That affection turned into addiction, and nothing I did was ever done with myself in mind. That’s unhealthy, and of course this made you unhappy. But I couldn’t stop. I should have stopped, and the rational part of my brain was probably screaming at me to stop.

But I was gone.

I turned my love into conditioning, and before I knew it the only thing I could offer to you were the things you already wanted. I couldn’t grow with you, which meant my love couldn’t grow, our love couldn’t grow. Loving somebody is complicated at times, but at its core love is about sharing. I didn’t want to share anything with you, I wanted to smother you in my twisted fantasy. I wanted you to ask me for more and more, until things came full circle and I was demanding that you demand more from me.

Today I found myself thinking about you, and about where you might be. Than I thought about myself and where I’m at right now. I have no idea how I got to this point. How many mistakes have I made in the past 5 years? And how many of those mistakes were done with the intention of sabotaging my chance at happiness? But more pressing than my trip down memory lane is the immediate question:

“Am I happy now?”

Well, I’m happier today than I was yesterday. I think my weekend was a tad bit happier than yesterday, and I know that 2 weeks ago I was so unhappy that I wound up in the mental health ward of my local hospital after my boss called 911, worried about the last text I sent. It included my resignation and reason for quitting, which was something along the lines of “I don’t deserve to be paid for the shit work I do. I’m not the right person for this role and I don’t want to hold you back. You don’t need to cut my last paycheck, just think of it as a fine for being that asshole who can’t even put in a proper 2 week notice.”

This November has been noticeably worse than last years, which was just a tad bit worse than the year before that. I don’t remember November from 4 years ago, but I also can’t imagine things ever being good. I know things must have been good…at some point I must have been happy…right?

“Am I happy now?”

I’m…alive? I am working again, and I am writing again. And that writing has lead to me making some submissions for publication. Alas, I was submitting poems, essays and short stories to various journals, magazines and contests, only to be rejected 99 times out of 100

I’m not sure if I’m happy right now. If I had to give it a score, I’d say my life reflects my recent submissions for publication; 99% of the time I know my life is garbage, because I’m a fucking landfill. But there’s still one, one tiny reason to hope. I wouldn’t call it happiness, but I’m out of options, and who knows? Maybe when you’re as empty as me, it’s better to make a bet on a slim hope rather than trying to stretch out that last, decaying piece of happiness to last me the rest of my life.

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., Poetry, The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

“I wasted all of my good fortune on memories that could never last. I didn’t save anything, so of course I have nothing…” (part 5 of 5)

I want fortune to listen

As I struggle with my speech,

To flinch as the words reveal

Scar after scar.

My words resonate regret,

And as all moisture

Evaporates in my throat,

Every note is coated

In varying shades

Of a screeching rust.

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., Poetry, The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

“I spent the summer wishing for a storm to wash away our spring, but never stopped to think about what comes after the rain.”

I spent my summer melting,

My autumn fearing another fall.


The new year was a blanket

Of snow and cumbersome guilt.


A spring sun demanded I begin,

But all of my roots were dead,

My branches devoid of green.


So I wasted the Suns generosity;

I still received it’s light,

But without the strength to blossom

It just created a gilded shell.


And that’s it all there is;

I’m just painted gold,

Paper money in the wind;

I hold no value except for

The values others place on me.


So I am buried,

Hiding from any hint of rain

Lest my colors start to bleed.


I’m afraid of the smallest storms,

And nothing, not even time,

Can stop me from withering away.