Signing off

 

I find lately

I don’t have to go too far

to get pissed off.

then I get pissed off

and people say “why aren’t you ever happy?”

 

but I am happy

just not around things

that piss me off.

 

maybe it fuels part of me

and

maybe it has made me into

a little piece of what I am

 

but here’s a secret someone

once told me

who was waiting for the apocalypse on

a hill

with a trashbag over his head

 

“We’re not really that important as individuals

you know”

 

“Oh yeah” I said.

 

“Oh yeah. I don’t think I’d be here in a trashbag

if we were.”

 

it’s good advice.

hell,

it’s gold.

 

I suppose the people that should read this,

those incessant bloggers

paring off their thoughts like they’re

giving away nuggets of ancient wisdom,

those toddlers real and grown

who argue in anonymous comment boxes

with all the oddity of a masculine infant,

those movie quoters

who know no lines actually written

by their own selves,

and

those people who use

other people as commodities

to fire their own misguided

nights,

 

wont.

 

As our best waste away,

as I fail to bring unity to something,

as everybody fails to bring unity

to everything else,

as we separate ourselves further and further

looking to prove our uniqueness

instead of just having the courage to be it,

 

maybe I too should wait with

my friend on the hill.