for free

so what if i'm a loser?

that's almost the point.

i'm teaching myself how to breathe.

actually.

in.  out.

it sounds so simple until you stop

sit still

and listen to the inward draw.

the mean, mad thoughts fire up.

but i am choosing not to busy myself to silence them.

i am choosing to sit here and strive for no greater result.

i am teaching myself how to breathe without having to earn it first.




because the definitions for love and friendship and family and safety and belonging have always been contingent.  so much so that i can't seem to shake it.  even i am making me earn the gift of love. even i am making me earn my right to live another day.  and that's exactly what i'm trying to stop.



i just want to sit here

and to not worry

that if i never sell another painting again

people will stop loving me.

i want to sit here

and scribble in my diary

and not worry that people will go away

if i never write a book.

i want to sit here

and enjoy the way the light slices through these shitty blinds,

falls across my hands,

and reminds me of my mother's.

i want to sit here

and listen to music all afternoon

and all night long

and regard someone else's art with the esteem it deserves.



can't enjoyment be a worthy cause?

can't enjoyment be a purpose?  a pursuit?

can't i chase the end of my perfectionism

and finally learn how to just breathe?



i do not want any brass ring.

nor any golden carrot.

i want love and friendship and belonging

and i want it for free.

no resume.

no bribery.

just you.

just me.