Warning: Naughty language ahead!
I am tired of not living.
I am tired of having to bump shoulders with death
to realize what it means to be alive.
I am tired of not leaping out of bed to beat the sunrise,
blasting through life with a full heart that yells,
Collapsing when the day is done
into white cloud-like sheets
and being pulled under the sea of blankets
by a lover who says
loving me is not a choice
but what he is here to do.
I am tired of seeing humans half-assing their lives.
Work is still work,
even if you love it;
do what you love,
let it kill you
we need to play.
I am tired of seeing humans chained to their desks,
captivated by their screens,
and not drunk in awe of the fleshy, beating heart
sitting across from them
in human form.
And waking up in a plastic house
cemented on pavement
to the hum and buzz of cars.
Hurry the fuck up already!
We are all so far up our own asses,
we think we are the kings of the road
and that it is more important to rush
than to be safe,
that our phone calls are more urgent
I am tired of having to drive outside of the boundaries of the city,
beyond wide buildings that make me feel claustrophobic.
I must run away
to let my eyes wander
across the horizon;
open space calms us,
like Xanax without the poison.
I need nature to soothe me like the mother she is.
I need my lips to be kissed with salt,
my body to be caressed by sand,
and for the ocean to take me like a lover
it needed all along.
We spend so much time chasing purpose,
we forget to enjoy the process.
One day you’ll be dead, darling,
and what will you have done?
Spent years wishing your bank account was filled with a five followed by six zeros,
your wallet so fat it bursts?
Spent hours criticizing your every pore in the mirror?
Spent eternity wishing you could let go,
leap into the unknown,
and learn what it really means to be alive
from the Europeans who take countless holidays,
sex before coffee,
and drink in sunshine
day after day?
We are all living in our heads,
yet our mouths stop running
and we are speechless
when we see others living in their bodies.
Our soul sighs in relief:
there they are!”
How we do one thing is how we do all things,
and seeing others live,
grounded in their bodies,
moving through the world from their hips—
these humans are the freshest breath of mountain air.
Our heart says,
this is what I need.”
I am so tired of not living—
Author: Annabelle Blythe
Image: Frank Park/Unsplash
Editor: Nicole Cameron