PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The farm I was looking forward to visiting has unfortunately fell through. The owner had been giving me lazy responses and thus I was expecting it to fail anyhow. He finally told me that they are a little crowded with other volunteers. To which I responded with “No worries, best wishes” and that was that. So no, I will not be immersed in the groovy realm of mushroom science nor the joys of such a simplified lifestyle, not just yet.

I will most likely at least try to get my job back at the restaurant I was previously working. I had quit for personal reasons. Other than being a drunken maniac, those reasons included fasting on the job and therefore becoming too weak, mostly mentally, to persevere with a full schedule, a recognition of working for money not a little resembling the slave trade, and ultimately just not enjoying it much. I am a sensitive person.

My mom needs me to man up and help her out. Heck, I need me to man up. It is a longstanding pity that I can’t function nearly as well as I am expected to function or simply should via the prolonged practice of various virtues, dedication. I don’t like responsibilities. I tend to avoid them. But it is getting to the point I must step up to the plate and bear the burden for righteous reasons.

I love my mom. I am going to need to prove myself to her and make her proud, relieve her maternal stress in the process, and take care of her when she may happen to need it. She is day by day growing increasingly concerned, worried, and dreadfully distraught about what the future could hold for us. In effect, I am not only sympathetic but pretty damn stressed, too, regarding the realness of what she expresses. It is real, very real, and it needs be soothed by means of my trying triumph. If there's anything that might motivate me, it is the promise to my mom that I won't disappoint no more. I will do for her what she has done for me. She definitely deserves a little relief.