Tag: emotions

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Men Are Garbage


My newest collection of poetry is available on Amazon. As the title suggests, I examine masculinity in our society as well as my own personal battles with past trauma and current events. I would argue that this is my best poetic work to date and I’m proud of the results. If you have little interest in poetry, I recommend you read it anyway. For those of you who love poetry, I believe you will find this collection enlightening. There is a certain amount of vulnerability in this collection that you will never see from me in person.

In other news, I have three stories making the rounds to potential publishers and they’ve been rejected by many others already. I will continue to submit them to online magazines until I get fed up and decide to self-publish. I have several other stories in the works. Many of them need revision and a couple others need to be finished. Once this are finished and revised, I will begin making the rounds to submit them to the many online magazines. I am also awaiting a response from a literary agent about a novella I sent them. I should get the rejection from that in the next couple weeks.

I thankfully am no longer unemployed which means I will have to stretch my time management skills if I want to complete my stories and promote my current self-published works. I never spent much time with friends anyway. I’ll have more details as we get closer to the date, but I will have a special kindle sale on September 3, Labor Day for all my eBooks. They will all be offered for a free download that day and I hope you tell all your friends about the cool sale.

You can learn more about my newest collection of poetry on my Instagram. I have a highlighted story with a preview of the first five poems along with the front and back cover. Many of my posts also include some of my poetry. You can find the collection for sale on Amazon as both an eBook and Paperback. A review would be greatly appreciated. And, of course, please tell your friends all about me and my writing. The more the merrier. I will have giveaways of my paperback books in the coming months. I’ll provide more details on that once I’ve confirmed everything.

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Some Panic Attacks Just Happen


You sit there, reading, minding your own business. To everyone else you look normal. They all think you’re a normal person having a coffee reading a book. Most of them don’t notice you. You blend into the crowd. You hide in plain sight. None of them could know what you think and feel, and you dare not tell anyone. You’re afraid it will scare them because it does scare you.

You sit, invisible to everyone; with your chest pounding, your thoughts racing, your hands shaking. You’re reacting to something. Something triggered you. Sometimes you know exactly why you were triggered. This is not one of those times. You don’t understand. You can’t explain it. You pick at your fingernails and cuticles. You twirl a pen or pencil in your fingers. You refill your coffee. Was it the coffee? Should you stop drinking coffee? The coffee didn’t bother you yesterday.

You survey the coffee shop. No one knows what’s happening to you. Even if they knew, they wouldn’t understand or care. Why should they care about you? They have their own problems. They’d think you were just some jackass craving attention. You know that’s what they’d think because that’s what you would think. But no one cares what you think just like no one cares what you’re feeling or what you’re doing. You’re the most insignificant person in existence.

You’ve pulled one of your cuticles too much and now you bleed. This distraction only works for a minute. Your thoughts stop racing, but your chest never stops pounding. You want to runaway but don’t know where. What you run from will follow you. How do you get away? Your thoughts are racing back, and your bloody finger doesn’t hurt anymore. You can’t even hurt yourself properly. There are never enough distractions.

You leave. You walk. You burn energy. It distracts you some and makes you tired. You need to feel tired. Keep running away until you’re tired; until your thoughts are tired.

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I Don’t Give Up


I am unemployed.  I search for work almost every day.  Now and then I get lucky and get an interview, but they always find someone else who’s more qualified for the job.  I feel I’m not qualified enough for any job. But still I search and apply.  I have an internal battle every day.  I want to push everyone in my life away and become a hermit who hides from everyone and everything.  This hiding isn’t so much out of fear but because I can’t learn to function around other people.  No matter how long I’ve known them, I find myself feeling out of place and lost everywhere.  But still I try to connect with others and force myself into social settings.

I have several things I want to do; several ambitions.  Being unemployed and barely having money for food or utilities has put many of those things on hold.  It’s an issue of priority.  Basic needs must come first, followed by security, and then pursuing the many ambitions I have.  It’s never easy foregoing one’s dreams to deal with basic necessities.  But still I pursue those dreams.  Though at a slower pace than I would prefer.  The dreams always feel too far away to reach.  But still I reach.  The negativity in my mind holds and pulls me down deeper and deeper into a black pit of darkness.  But still I fight to break free.

I’m beginning to feel that my only options are to move to another city and another state to find work, reenlist in the military which means I’ll be sent who knows where for at least 3 years, or do something that will send me to prison just, so I can have food and a place to sleep.  Each of these scenarios means moving farther away from my dreams and ambitions and giving up everything I’ve built thus far.  I grew up being told by everyone to follow my dreams.  All that has brought me is more struggle and pain.  But still I dream.  If I had given up on my dreams, I would be even more depressed and miserable than I am now.

I don’t know what the future holds.  I feel stuck and trapped and it feels like my situation keeps getting worse.  I know things will get better, but my concern is how long that will take.  How long will I fight and struggle and lose everything before I can move forward? Will I keep fighting to the bitter end or will it all finally get to me, break me down, and cause me to give in and give up?  I can’t give up because I have nothing else.  I feel I’m stuck in a room full of people, but no one is allowed to speak to me or help me.  I’m an outcast; a pariah.  Even when I ask for help, I still have to fight it alone.  But still I persevere.  I never give up and never surrender.  I never let the darkness keep me.