If I were to ask you for three words beginning with the letters “suff” I’m fairly certain of which ones would be most common, all of which tie in neatly with the feeling of the following poem. I wonder, am I right? Let me know in the comments which three words you thought of!
I can’t stand it when others waste my time.
There’s a call to action
A plea for help
So I appear,
And suddenly there are a million hurdles
To cross, beat down, evade
Before a single step is made.
But myself, when I choose to sit
Cup in hand, relaxing, contemplating what’s ahead
Song after song, word after word
No productivity, pure sweet procrastination
Putting off predestination
Resetting things with tingling eardrums, caffeination
Distracting from the eventual frustration –
I can waste my time forever, sitting here. Others: I can’t stand.
There is a saying in Japanese that when you dream of someone, it’s because that person is thinking about you. It’s a very interesting concept, completely reverse to what I’d consider rational, due to research indicating we dream about the things we have been thinking about last. But it makes one think about actual causality versus coincidence and the connections our experiences with people have on our subconscious. Whether we were directly thinking about them or not in the few minutes before our sleep set in, they are deeply part of us, and what triggers our memories and thoughts of them is and always will be a mysterious, poorly understood process.
And so I present you with this poem of sorts, on a not-altogether unrelated note.
When a ghost smiles at you,
What do you do?
Is it because they know somehow
That you are nearly that dead too?
Is the ghost the future, which is death, and therefore living now?
Does that make you, left in the past, a shadow of dead times?
Who is the ghost, I wonder?
The one who stumbles on,
Or the one who made the blunder?