sometimes i think what will make me a good social worker is how difficult it is for me to connect with people sometimes. because that will translate to an inability to connect with clients fully. allowing me to maintain a professional boundary, sure, but it will also keep me from 'taking work home'. that is, i don't think trauma dumping affects me as much as others because there is just a barrier between me and everyone. feels silly to say, and could just be attributed to all the drinking i've done for like nine hours, but it feels true, right now, in this moment

like i just biked home and am concluding a day that began with getting taco bell with someone, resenting my roommate for agreeing to host someone from out of town and doing nothing about making the house presentable (i had to unnapreciatedly clean up a lot) baking cookies and dropping some off to coworkers for a bday of theirs, giving some to a friend for them and to give to someone i saw recently, taking most for a friend's going away party, then more for another bday, then going to a dif bar followed by a club after, where i had to take care of someone i barely knew and her friend seemed v ungrateful even though i did not have to do all that. then me leaving and stopping by a bar halfway home for popcorn and an ill-advised coors banquet where the door person was someone i was trying to make date plans with after matching on an app and texting for a couple weeks. never materialized. she was reading something related to the percy jackson universe but about norse mythology instead of greek. and through all that i kept thinking about how difficult it is to connect with others. boo hoo i guess

all that's to say if after hanging out with all these friends in all these celebrations, if i still go home thinking about how the only time i feel anything is when people are leaving, then i must have a difficulty connecting, and that translates to being able to separate others from myself when it comes to the darker stuff of social work or whatever

i thought it was interesting that [redacted] did not want to talk about what happened to them. like i know, and i probably shouldn't, so i couldn't really say anything, but the way they dodged anything that could open that convo, i knew it wasn't something to pry about. but they weren't like that about a previous incident that was almost as bad, so it's good to see there is a line drawn in the sand where things become too much

i'm gonna pass out now and hope i get a text tomorrow. i mean i probably will, but i didn't get it today, so it already feels late

idk no new poem today but i did play one of my last few shows as a bassist for a while. band is ending in about a month. we played at grand prize tonight. it was fun. my hands got a little sweaty and i messed up a bit, but overall it was a success. cindy said everyone mentioned being able to hear her, and not being able to hear the mistakes. so alls good

grateful for friends

i think i can catch up on my reading goal in like the next month just watch

silence

when they allotted me just forty words a day
I decicided to ration them
I only say 'thank you' at the coffee shop
I say nothing at the grocery store
my eyes do all the talking
and when my family asks me questions
they know they're wasting their allotment
cause i wont answer
cause i need to talk to you
as much as i can
and when you cant speak back
because you've run out of words
it's okay it's alright
i'll speak for the both of us
with my seventeen words left for the day

Surf

All in my socks
All on the subaru floor
Under itchy bandage on my arm
In the etches of my cupped hands
Filled with water
A minnow made of glass
Swims circles
Weathering

watchingworldcup

i wanted to write on here tonight but i am unfortunately very sleepy

teleporting

I’ve teleported through all the major cities in america i drink my boutique cortados and stumble through parks counting sparrows with a blank mind the northeast is great for this with sidewalks and pigeons the south is pretty miserable the west is naturally beautiful and it takes a special mind like mine to see the beauty in the middle i’ve met people in all have shared some memories as much as they can be shared love and happiness and embarrasment but when i opened my phone last night and saw an old coworker return to her home country in tears i realized the one thing i have yet to do is belong

train

In the perfect world
We rode the little red train
Around the park
Around the zoo
I made a photo of you
Smiling
As it turned a bend
As it ran over a man
Trapping him underneath
As it made the evening news
As if a first date
Could ever go any better

sometimes, within the span of like 12 hours, you're hit with mutiple moments that all work together to convince you that there is something inherently unlovable about you. that you're not worth getting to know. that you're not interesting enough to cotinue getting to know. that after knowing you you aren't worth the hastle. I don't necessarily believe these three things. but they do almost inspire some bad poetry

i think i finally get that cameron winter album

i'm supposed to go to two parties this week. i may only do one. or maybe i'll do both but one will be brief. i don't know. i meant to game today but instead i took a like four hour nap after work and then endured a hostile phone call for an hour or so. it mellowed out, ended well enough but then there's the midnight followup up text that makes you feel crazy for thinking things could ever wrap up nicely. i don't know. i booked a place to crash so i can just be alone when i travel again in two weeks. that's more than one week, for any who think there's no difference

i guess i can kinda vent to someone tomorrow about all this maybe. i like keeping everything to myself. that way i'm not accused of shit talking or whatever

i think my old colombian coworker from my coffee days just moved back to colombia. wonder if it was immigration/ice-related or just homesickness. she was crying from happiness in the stories she posted. i want to belong somewhere like that

look at that. one year. and you're doing just fine. not worse. marginally better. fine

101

Stumbling through doors
And onto firm bar stools
I make a photo

Lies about lives
...Just misdirections
Or something like that

We talk through drinks
Split, say bye after our walk
And pours of fernet

Walk run to reach you
Arms locked as leds go dark
I’ll go home now