A slam poem that pokes fun at many dark pieces of daily existence.
Chin up, not down, you’re a doer, doers do things.
But what’s with all this doing when I cannot see, feel, taste, sense any form of, doing?
God, how crazy I must’ve become, my brain is obviously going, and I’m oh so young still.
And look at me, I do (yes do, the doer, that’s me) all of this, just to keep my head from falling off my shoulders.
Have you ever thought about how much your neck hurts when you have to keep your chin up – man, because that’s the only thing that life seems to want – Look up, look forward, feel good, feel great, get out there champ, you got places to be, things to do, and, wow… just look at that, look at that posture.
But see, when I’m looking up, my eyes just rest on the clouds, and then the clouds turn to fog, and rest in my eyes. You know how when you stare at something for too long, you get those multi-colored sparkles dancing across your vision? Well, that’s me, 24/7, except all the colors are grey, and they surround my whole face, and slowly suffocate me, but I smile anyway, so it’s fine.
And then when I try to wipe them away with my hands, the colors, like the real world colors, kind of just mix in with the grey, and I’m sitting there thinking “Am I just high, drunk, or highly, and drunkenly delusional?”
Then I stop for a moment and continue to stare, seeing the colors mesh with the greys, and my eyes just relax.
See, you think relax is the good word, but it’s a piece of shit when it comes to, ya know, actually trying to focus on the fact that you’re a living, breathing organism that’s weaving in out of daily existence, searching for that good ol’ purpose that all of us are out to find. But, it’d feel nice if the seeing felt, well, I don’t know, real – Because I can only look at these dust bunnies in my face for too long before they start talking to me (in reality, I really really want them to start talking to me.)
But I guess that doesn’t matter – I gotta go, gotta move, sorry, have places to be, got A’s to gain, papers to tame, tables to impress, dress for success – and I…
…Am just a lunatic who nods “yes sir, no ma’am, Oh of course, I’ll follow the system, don’t worry, I’ll never fight back, I’m one of the good ones!”
Do you know how annoying it is to nod all the time, what with my head about to fall off my shoulders at any moment (I told you that’s why I have to keep my chin up, right?). I can feel the bones start to slide, and it’s like, ‘woah, calm down there sweets, I still need to be attached to, well, keep nodding obviously, so stop that fussing, we have things to do, okay.’
That’s why scarves the best. I can be sipping coffee in front of my B-F-F-F-F, whichever one that is, and they won’t even notice. Like, even when it’s one of those stressful days and my whole head is lobbed to one side, I just whip on one of those scarves, and boom – instant fix.
I love instant fixes. They’re great.
There should just be an instant fix for everything, you know, especially for the dust bunnies in my eyes (but I don’t think life is that easy, right? It wasn’t never meant to be that easy.)
So – how do we make this crazy world an easier place to live in? There’s gotta be some secret to it. I mean, scarves can’t fix everything. Nor can your B-F-F-F-F (can’t rely on em’ forever anyway, they’re gonna move and have two and a half kids soon enough.)
What’s the plan, then? Because the scary part about these dust bunnies is that even though they live in my eyes, they’re starting to ask me for rent money, as if I’m not the one controlling my own body – like seriously?
But I guess it makes sense, right? Sometimes life can just be crazy to the point where it feels like you’re not the one, controlling, well, you.
I mean again, bills to pay, gains to maintain, day-in-day out, the whole nine yards of what we call our little, *cough* meaningless, existence… but last time I checked, we do have free will, and evil dust bunnies aren’t rising up and taking control of people.
But what if they are?
Maybe, just maybe, the reason why my head is about to fall of my shoulders…the reason I have to keep my chin up so damn high, is because the lights, the dust that resides in my eyes was placed by a secret organization our government created to force people to be working machines while pretending to be wildly happy and sane.
Because if dancing bunnies in front of your eyes don’t make you an insane person, I don’t know what will.
Maybe seeing me have to pick my head off the ground and putting it back on my shoulders on my worse days, but you know.
In the end, those bunnies aren’t getting shit for rent money.