deer in the headlights
all of the sudden a few things cross my mind here's a preemptive
table of contents which means I
haven't written anything yet and maybe I shouldn't so bear with me
page 1 deer metaphor reminder to look up what a pack of
deer is called page 2 something about our world social media
the weather things are different page 3 goodwill is a museum now
page 4 how to be the very best at everything in 10 easy
steps page 5 social media again but it's okay it's honestly
a metaphor for persistence, for invasion,
for dissatisfaction page 6 priorities page 7 conclusion
I think maybe I should explain.
I'll start with the deer?
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page 1 deer metaphor
I'm a deer,
a doe
caught in the headlights
I'm running from something, probably
they're tearing up my homewoods a few blocks away,
I know that, and
things aren't the same as they used to be within
my herd.
everything seems to be changing
but I changed with it
everyone changed with it,
we're always changing with it.
right.
the headlights, the road.
not the first thing on my mind, or the last
not my ultimate worry but the one right in front of me
what are you going to do with your life?
freeze
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page 2 something about our world
everything seems to be different, now
I have a photo
or the ability to have a photo
of everything I do
I spend hours manipulating them
to look the way I want them to
sometimes I share them,
sometimes I sit on them
sometimes I think about sharing them
before I take them
everything seems to be different, now
it's 50 degrees and raining
in decemeber
I have my window open, I would know
it hasn't snowed in big windy drifts
it hasn't snowed until april
it hasn't iced over the road like it used to
not in a long time
everything seems to be different, now
people know what you do and don't think
before it comes out of your mouth
people are watching, but mainly
watching themselves
watching themselves
watching themselves.
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page 3 goodwill is a museum
goodwill is a museum
at least it is to me
I find art in there
more than I would in any
high vaulting fancy white walled building
goodwill is a museum
I know because it asks me what I like
and what I don’t like
it asks me to think,
tells me that giving my opinions freely
is not a crime, but double checks with me
why don’t you like that? and
what if you did?
goodwill is a museum
I understand when I walk past the
rows of discarded art
racks of discarded clothes
rooms of discarded things
all left for someone new to delight in
what use has the artist
for something she is done creating?
goodwill is a museum,
for everyone
and it always has been
it’s not about whether
you have the qualifications to speak your mind
it’s about entering anyway,
finding what you like,
and leaving the rest behind
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page 4 how to be the very best at everything
to be the best,
in my field
is toxicity
can you understand why
I no longer want this?
the most important thing my mother ever told me was
there will always be someone better than you
she was right
I didn’t ask how she found out
but she was right
and now
I wouldn’t dare to raise a child
without telling him this first
wanting to be the best
got me a lot of places, sometimes
soaring dangerously near the best
my new wings only reminding me
they would never be enough
even now I know
I’m not pretty enough
I’m not strong enough
I’m not talented enough
well
not enough to be the best anyway
is it starting to make sense?
I’ve been known to do things quickly
and poorly
just to get them done
see: the dishes
and in my field
I laugh
I don’t own anything
but in my field
I’m no good
I don’t paint good enough
sketch good enough
design properly enough
well
not enough to be the best
I’ve hated every time I feel my
pulseracing and
my heartbeatquickening
feverishlytryingtooutdomyself
and I’m done with it
how to be the best
in 10 easy steps:
don’t
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page 5 social media again
I’m so distracted
I wasn’t made to scroll
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page 6 priorities
what if I spent my entire life with
just-you
instead of trying to climb a ladder
would that be enough
for the audience I’ve acquired?
what if I went on picnics with
just-you
madly in love over
the color of blackberries
would that be enough
for the people insisting I will be married?
what if I freed myself
of trying to be the best, a standout, a skillset,
a suit jacket
and instead pick up a shovel
or a milk carton,
things that everyone can do
but I think about
just-you
with every movement
what if I’m in love first, and then alive,
and then employed,
and then
I die
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page 7 conclusion
maybe my college degree was in
learning to love you
and not in
employment
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page 8 epilogue
as if this life was about money
as if
as if the best parts of mine weren’t about
worship and
friendships and
travelling and
bakeries and
family and
poetry and
salvation and
late nights and
cloud gazing and
writing and
crying and
waitressing and
studying and
learning and
growing and
changing and
hugs and
candles and
reading and
redemption and
drinking tea and
waiting and
goodbyes and
silence
and you want me to chase money
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