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Caucasian Xmas and Fucks News

Anyone else ever remark how if you listen to, “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas”, with a different ear it becomes insanely racist? Just me then huh. I’ve always been special. Luckily I’ve yet to be penalized in the form of any charges; monetary, judicial or even physical, (rhinos excluded). Truly, I am blessed!

I am a firm believer that humans are the intellectual equivalent of sharks. That sounds ludicrous out of context and while many are indeed cursed with a certain proportional porpoiseonal* intellect, what I really mean is that if we don’t continue swimming, should we choose to disregard our brain’s overwhelming need for earned knowledge and new experience, we too will degrade and stagnate.

“Batch 22”, December 22, 2019.

Stoically monotonous

We find our day today

Denmark level rottenness

Struggling to find a way

Comfort lives in strict routine

But such is double-edged

On your psyche grafts a lien

That grows to fully-fledged

Gentle steps then out the zone

In which said comfort lies

Climb the staircase to pure throne

Such that dread malaise dies.

“It’s a trap!” The admiral was correct, losing yourself in the status quo of your daily existence is almost like an addiction. It’s comfortable and easy, you don’t have to feel emotions with the same magnitude but it’s not real. It’s not who we’re actually meant to be and over time just like any other illicit substance, you begin to realize perhaps a mistake was made. And that’s when you can finally move to make corrections. 🙂

It’s possible that will be my last poem of 2019 and if so I wanted to take a quick moment and express my extreme gratitude to all supporters and readers of any kind. There’s no doubt that in your absence this space would not still exist. Thank you, truly.

-Alex Blaikie

*I’ll make up whatever damn words I choose! And apologies to porpoises whom I know are not sharks, the alliteration was simply too delectable. As for the dolts I compared mentally to said small toothed whales, well that’s really a compliment to most of y’all so just shut it and go back to Fucks News.

Categories: poetry writing

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A fractured mind held together by cellophane and some used tack.

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