tired, out of focus

today was kinda a bad day. it all started last night, when i kinda blew up at my daughter for going to buy ice cream from the ice cream truck when it was late and dark, and i had explicitly told her not to... i felt really bad after that, so bad that i just kinda wrestled with my own inner demons for most of last night. there is a whole lot of self-hatred seething beneath the surface, and with just a light scratch, a horde rises up to pull me under.

i couldn't get to work, to focus on the things i was supposed to do last night. i kept putting things off, thinking that i'd sleep for a couple of hours and wake up to get things done. but i wasn't sleeping, i was just lying there twisting and turning, my guts clenching with anger, like my whole body was some fist. i kept wanting to drift into oblivion, but it never happened...

the morning came like an unwelcome guest. i rushed out without saying an adequate goodbye to my wife and kids, and found a day disordered and panicked waiting for me. it was a feeling of impending doom that hung over my head the whole day, a day of feeling empty and unprepared and a minute late and uninspired... i hated it. i worked with the kids, who seemed restless and argumentative today, and felt so very tired. i do love the students i work with, but this day was... tough.

i feel dirty with the grit of the world on me. i want to take a shower and then envelope myself in oblivion. but there is always tomorrow looming... dread.

***

i did hear an interview of keith richards (guitarist of the stones), and i found him jaded and wise and interesting. one thing i thought was funny was his description of his fans early on in the stones' rise to fame, consisting of girls 13, 14, and 15 years old, who were desperate to touch and cling to any part of him... but didn't know what to do with him once they had him. keith had had many brushes with death, but he made an endearing statement, something about having no regrets or fears; "everybody has a knock up, a brush up, with death every now and again."

i hope to have that kind of humor about life when i am that age. nowadays, i just feel hunted by my own shadow...

***

shadows sucking marrow
leaving me hollow and skin barely standing
shivering within and without
scared of the slightest puff of the fake dragons
or the cuts from paper tigers.

it is not enough to do good things.
it is not enough to be good.
the hate finds you where you stand unawares
it finds you because it never left
it reminds you who's boss
who will always be boss
and whips you to do deeds
without the satisfaction of knowing
you're in the right, and
you're okay,
you're fine in someone's book.

it rips out the pages.
it spits out the words in garbles.
no one wants to read between the lines.
no one saves the man behind
it is too bored and disinterested a thing.