TGIF

Today had more moments packed in

It seemed

And yet they

Disappeared

Somehow

Without me noticing

Where do they go?

The elusive seconds, the moments we are supposed

To take notice of

But can’t because we’re too

Too

Too

Too busy.

I’m so busy now.

Before

It was one long moment

And the sameness of it

Bored me to tears.

Now no two moments are alike

But they go by

Without me noticing

So what good is the variety of them

If the noticing of them

Isn’t there.

A strange question maybe

An odd wondering

For a Thursday night

TGIF.

Time, time, time

I’m tired, so tired

I’m run down, so run down

There’s nothing left in me,

Nothing left to give

What am I giving? (my time)

Who am I giving it to? (my boss)

Why do I give it to ‘em? (for money)

Why do I need the money?  (to live)

Why do I need to live?

For time.

Time to do the things I want to do.

Time to sing, laugh, joke, play

Time to run, but for sheer joy,

Not ‘cause I missed the train

Time to stretch my limbs out

Not run my brains out

On a treadmill

Trying to get fit

When fitness is about moving your limbs all the time,

Stretchin’ when your body says

Stretch!

Not just when the clock ticks and tocks

And the alarm goes “beep.beep.beep”

Time to work out

Time to pack all the movement your body requires

Into a 30 minute pilates class

Or a 20 minute jog.

And even THAT most people don’t have time for.

Time, time,  time.

If only people knew,

It’s G-d’s gift to us.

We shouldn’t be givin’ it away for money.

We should be givin’ it to Him.

Why do I bother?

Why do I bother?

Why do I take this mothering job so freeking seriously?

Why do I push and push, and try and try 

so that he has a better life, makes better choices;

How can I open his eyes to see the things that I see,

So he doesn’t have to suffer what I have suffered?

Why is mothering so painful?

Why does he take it so lightly?

Why do I care so damn, so incredibly much…

Having interference makes it that much harder.

He has something or someone to compare me to…

“they don’t do it that way; why do you do it that way?"

Everything is called into question; 

and he feels he has the right to question me

On everything.

I’m too intense.

I care too much.

It take it all way too seriously.

I am me; I can’t be another.

So how do I chill the fuck out?

Means nothing to me

I am in a strange world

In a strange land

People’s mouths move

And I hear a sort of static

 

There is a subtext

There’s all that people don’t say

Won’t say

Can’t say

The fear grips them

Fear

Of economic security

Of offending

Of not being “nice”

Of being seen as “out of control”

Pushy, domineering

Things don’t get said

And yet messages fly at us

"I’m angry..."

"You’re not measuring up..."

"You have fallen short..."

Smiles plastered on faces

While teeth are grit

And spit is forming

That will never, ever be spat out

Would be uncouth

Uncivilized

To be real

Unheard of

To speak your mind

Dangerous

To feel it and say it

In the moment

Spilling out all your venom

All your mistrust

All your doubts

Have to look…cool

As a cucumber

On top of it…

Like Madonna

Competent and know it all

Because

I don’t know

Isn’t supposed to be in your vocabulary

Not, that is,

If it’s boss that’s asking you.

Sad, really.

All this fear people are stewing in

While they pretend to be

Your friend, your ally.

Sad we put up with it

To feed our kids

And keep shoes on their feet

And the tuitions of private schools paid.

The incarceration goes even to the highest levels.

The letters C-E-O don’t free you up either.

There are shareholders to perform for.

And still your job

Could be whisked away at any time.

It’s a joke.

Janis spoke a truth that

Is absolute--

“Freedom’s just another word for

“nothing left to lose”.

Freedom is also another word for

“ ‘all this’ (now look around you)

Means nothing

To me.”