Eclipsed expectations

It’s colder than a witches asshole this morning! – no that’s not right…
I feel deflated today and am hoping no one steps on me further or I might explode as my last line of defense. I’ve already gotten into an imaginary argument with a co-worker because he found out I was a poet and made an imaginary joke and I told him to stop stalking me on facebook because I’m not “friends” with him and how did he know anyway unless he was stalking me.
But that descended quickly and I’m having a European breakfast of sourdough bread and Fontina cheese and sipping Valkyrie coffee pretending I know what I’m doing, where this is going.
I jammed my thumb last night playing soccer and now it’s arthritic and swollen and it felt like my lungs were bleeding because I’m sick and on antibiotics. Why was I playing soccer? Because it’s the only time I get to hit grown men and women and get away with it. We lost again and I was thinking on the way home how hard it is to align yourself with other’s expectations – the ideas people have of you, the knowledge they think they posses. An old part of me wants to apologize for not living up, for not fitting, but I won’t.

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