Accept exceptions except the exceptions to the accepting exceptions injunction

I need to write more

 

at least I think so

sometimes it’s hard to tell if this thing is helping me or focusing all my self

depricating tendencies

My new therepist says I’m passive

But I’m pretty sure he’s a moron who probably thinks I’m some sort of wimp

But I’m not

Really

I actually hate most things; I guess that includes me if you make a whole list

 

But it’s okay, I guess

I just want someone to yell at

Someone who has to listen

Someone I pay to take it all in

I pay to absolve my own guilt

Maybe 700 last year wasn’t quite enough

Enough is always a short hand for more than you have

But I think I have what I need

Except I need to accept it.

Except needing to accept it,

I have what I need.

I need to accept that I have it and accept it’s glad to have me.

I guess I don’t have enough then

Classic human condition

Maybe I’ll laugh a little and then go to sleep

 

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Sorry, not dead

I always hated being called poet
but I guess shoe fits.
it’s certainly a
suitable nominal title
even though I never majored in English.

and sure I never read Austin
it’s okay; neither did they.
they only wrote a bunch of essays
and haven’t since the day they graduated

I guess now we’re on the same page

I’m admittedly a slow reader
fast learner
persistent do-er

with

no clue how the sociohistorical context reflects any way I try to create.
you really think that was on the mind of any single one of the greats?

I mean maybe.

I don’t know.

I haven’t studied.

It’s okay.
You can shut me up easily.
I fall swiftly to someone seeming more pretentious than me.

(Yes
I know it’s “I”
go away)

modern industry

I saw a man
in the park today
waking up
early

(there were still bums
on tables
under tables
by benches
sleeping)

taking advantage
of California’s
proclivity
for recycling

and I had just finished
drinking my Diet Coke

when I saw him walk under a different tree
and he wasnt paying attention
I placed the empty can
on top of the bin

I suppose
I could have given it to him

I dont know why I didnt
it wasnt a danger thing
I wasnt worried

It would have been awkward
if he asked for money
I had change in my pocket
for laundry
and hate lying

I was more worried hed see me
as the typical
up-your-ass-self-righteous-
holier-than-thou-SoCal-yuppie
who did an act of “charity”
due to their “enlightened”
state of being

either way
he saw it
probably
saw me
thought what he wanted
and grabbed it

I saved us both an awkward conversation
and him a rummage through the bin

he didn’t need to talk to me
the man was busy

j.maxwell

Student Athlete

Staring at the map of last Saturday
trying to take it all in at once

I can remember almost every detail
so clearly
so odd
for someone
with my memory capacity

All the pictures by signs
all the good food
and good times with you

It helps me
with remembering
why I’m becoming
a student athlete meme

to get back to you

never stop hustling
🙏💯🔥😂💪
John 3:16

I try to remember but it all just blends together.
It’s kinda hard to tell exactly where
the minute hand crosses from afar.

But was I happy?
(Yea, sure. I remember it. Splendidly)

No. Really.
(I don’t know. If I could answer. Truthfully)

But was it worth it?
(I think I’m. Too scared. Of wasting time.
Oh, god. Am I wasting it? Right now?)

Better plan,
to make the most of it.

Better plan,
to plan better in the future

Better plan,
hold off longer,
defer your own reward.

Better plan,
to live better later.

What do you remember?
(Not much. Honestly.)

But were you happy?
(I said “I don’t know,” truthfully.)

If you don’t remember
does it matter?
(I’m seriously unsure.)

What’s in the future?
(Hopefully, happiness.
Currently, hope.)

What’s the point?
(What you mean?)

There’s a future’s future.
-j.maxwell

I never considered myself much of a painter
but I won an art contest once.
Catholic Daughters. 3rd grade.
Theme was “God’s power.”
I drew a watercolor landscape
of mountains. Mountains that I,
growing up in Louisiana,
had never really seen,
but I wanted to.
Still, I sucked at drawing.
Never learned to hold a pencil right.
I quit art by 5th grade.

When I was 15,
I went to Colorado.
I mountain biked.
The mountain was just an obstacle,
an annoyance.
Everyone else enjoyed it,
but the trail was 5 miles too long
and not what I signed up for.
The obligations of elevated ground
didn’t seem worth the effort.

A few summers ago,
I went to the Ozarks to camp.
My friend slipped and fell 70 feet.
I still remember his teeth
rearranged in his mouth
each one pointing
in a different direction
reaffirming my previous notions
about mountains and elevation.
They take and cause pain.

I moved to Santa Barbara
just a few months ago.
The mountains are beautiful,
and I asked a local
how long does it take to
get over that view.
He said in like a month
they’ll just blend in
with the scenery.
I didn’t quite believe,
but they did.
They’re just what is.
I don’t need to be angry.
They don’t affect me.

-j.maxwell