Sometimes, work sucks. Although I stopped drinking alcohol and smoking weed more than 15 years ago, I totally get why people use. Drugs and alcohol short-cut anger and frustration and there are times when I can understand the desire for that shortcut. But I have no intention of chemically solving an emotional or spiritual problem. I’d be a hypocrite if I did and everything I’ve ever taught would have been a lie.

Recently, I had a really bad day. So bad, in fact, that I wanted to puke because the situation was so frustrating that I developed a headache that came with nausea. While I can’t get into the specifics, I can say that among my biggest frustrations is when people try to create a false perception and then expect others to act within that perception as though it’s real and true. However, I simply cannot play pretend and “wink” my way through life. If there are objective reasons to do something, even if I disagree with the actions, I will act in accordance with the reasons. However, political bullcrap will NEVER motivate me and I can’t pretend like it will.

So, what did I do? First, I beat crap out of my wrestling dummy. Once I was physically tired, I grabbed my pen and wrote furiously in my handy dandy notebook. I didn’t care if what I wrote was good or bad, I just let the pen carry every angry word I felt and when I was done, lo and behold, a poem emerged:

Peaceful dreams

elude and betray

where demons dance and jump and play

BUT

fuck them all I say.

In god’s light is

where I find my place…

They can lie

and cheat and steal

and their sham

to them is real

BUT

perception ain’t truth

and justice wins

and will leave them in hell…

burn slow and long

for all I care

i’ll sit at river’s edge

and watch them choke and drown

on everything they once alleged.

Now, I don’t care if the poem is good or if it sucks. The only thing with which I am concerned is that after I wrote it, I altered my emotional state such that I was better able to process the crappiness that pissed me off in the first place. I didn’t need any chemicals, just pen and paper and anger and frustration. Writing is my refuge. If I didn’t write, I couldn’t make it through a single day of crappy work…