Age and the speed racing of time (and poetry)...

I try not to go on about age too much (because I don't really care about age too much - except for when it comes to the ridiculously speed-racing passage of time and how fast every year seems to fly by - and how I think for a lot of us, every year goes by so fast that our age is older than we feel FOR YEARS). And then of course, further approaching the progression of impending death.

But since I just turned 51 this week and since I thus stated my age on a few photos I put up online, maybe that's part of the reason why a photo post from a poet friend showed up in my fb Newsfeed and said he was about to turn 31, which then caused me to feel a bit weird about him being so much younger than me (in terms of age, anyway), because I don't tend to think of or view people as being much younger or older, unless they're way younger or older (or act like a kid or a parent in all their interactions).

And so 30 doesn't sound particularly young or old to me; it just sounds like a number. But it's a number that's currently 20 years younger than my number, which escalates the speed-racing passage of time! And also, backtracking in time, I remember having a freak out when I was about to turn 30! And now I've just turned 51! And even though me being 30 feels like quite a while ago now and a whole different part of my life, it doesn't feel like more than 20 years ago! I mean, I still have a lot of significant memories associated with parts of my life in my 20's...and 30's...and 40's... but now I'm in a different decade already.

In a way, it feels a bit weird when a lot of the poets who are getting attention are now 20 years (or more than 20 years) younger than me. But I mean...I was writing and getting published 20 years ago (and more than 20 years ago) too. I was getting published in my twenties, too. But then even more in my thirties and beyond. I thought my poetry really started flourishing (as in, coming out more naturally) at age 33. I think my first full-length poetry book was published when I was 35. Prior to that, I'd had quite a few poetry chapbooks published.

I'm one of those writers who has always loved chapbooks, small presses, indie presses and always will. I think I'll always remain focused on chapbooks. I've had two chapbooks published this year, another one forthcoming soon, and another new chapbook manuscript that I'm currently submitting. I also have a collaborative full-length manuscript I'm submitting and an individual full-length manuscript in-progress, but I seem to have a harder time with full-length manuscripts, both in terms of assembling them (it just takes me a while) and in terms of submitting them (I'm not paying big reading fees or submitting to presses that don't even tell you what happens if they accept your manuscript or that only give you one free copy of your own book).

But now I'm rambling in a different direction when I was supposed to be talking about the speed racing of time. For example, my last individual full-length poetry book was published 5 years ago now and that does not feel like 5 years ago!

is my embarrassment a brain glitch?

One thing that bothers me about myself is that I too frequently feel embarrassed about things that aren't even worthy of embarrassment. Like it's not uncommon for me to wake up feeling embarrassed by something I posted on my own facebook page the night before - and so I figure there must be a valid reason I woke up feeling embarrassed about it - but then when I read it, more often than not, it was just me expressing my own thoughts/feelings about something. So am I embarrassed by my own genuine thoughts/feelings? Am I embarrassed about semi-publicly expressing myself? Am I worried what other people might think? Or what?

I think I have a conflicted brain, because the genuine part of me is drawn towards expressing myself genuinely, regardless of what other people do or don't think. I've been like that for years. I'm pretty open to honestly expressing how I feel about things, but then I also question the validity and depth of the way I feel about things, even though they're my own feelings, so why am I questioning their validity. It's not like I'm stating my feelings as hardcore facts or something.

So for this morning's example, I woke up feeling embarrassed more than three hours before my alarm was set. I felt embarrassed that I had posted links to several old songs by This Mortal Coil (even though I liked the songs and that's why I posted them) and I felt embarrassed about this long-ish personal commentary that I placed above one of the songs. I felt embarrassed that I backtracked to 20+ years ago and I felt embarrassed about the age I am now. None of this embarrassment really makes sense. The worst thing I did was over-share my own thoughts and it's not as if anyone is being forced to read them, so what's the big deal? I'm tired of my brain waking up feeling embarrassed by me being an expressive individual.

Maybe this is part of the reason why I'm a writer. It feels important for me to openly, creatively express myself, but I'd rather do it on paper (or on the screen) rather than expressing myself in person and feeling semi-randomly embarrassed the next day. But even though my predominant form of creative expression is poetry and I enjoy writing poems and having them selected for publication, I often feel edgy and awkward and borderline embarrassed about being part of a public poetry reading, because then I have to read my words in front of people in person, which sometimes feels too presumptuous or assumptive, even though it's not.

Back to waking up hours before I was supposed to and feeling embarrassed about what I had posted on my own facebook page, I also had a headache when I woke up, so I didn't have the energy to re-read what I had written, in order to determine if it was truly worthy of embarrassment. I didn't delete my posts; I just changed their "Shared" status to where only I could see them. Am I turning into someone who only likes talking to myself? Well...no, because if that was the case then why would I be writing this and why would I take the time to submit my poems instead of just piling them up in boxes in my house? I don't like hiding things. I like sharing. Even if I feel semi-randomly embarrassed by parts of what I share. Sigh.
***

I'm now adding one of my embarrassing feeling posts from yesterday because once I re-read it today, it really wasn't all that embarrassing - and even if it is, it's the way I sometimes feel anyway.

"Sometimes when your mind backtracks into your past, it feels weird thinking that your own interpretation of your past self might only exist in your own eyes and mind and not in anyone else's (except for their own interpretations, which might be significantly different from your own).

I'll bet I remember things about others that they don't remember about me - and I'll bet others remember things about me that I don't remember - maybe nobody remembers anything the same.

Significant others in my present that are still connected with their past in parts of present life, I wonder if they can imagine how it feels to mostly only be connected with your past significant others in dreams and your own minds (possibly convoluted) memories, because you don't have personal present contact with most of the individuals you used to be significantly involved with.

Maybe it's like that for a lot of people. I don't know. I mostly just know what it's like for me and what other people choose to share with me, from their interpretations."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UjywQOuzeSY

Mid-Life Crisis Bad Dream?

It was me and him and another woman.  I didn’t know her very well and my mind and heart got really bad vibes from her (including the vibe that she’d fake it and lie to get what she wanted; personality traits that I pretty much despise), but what could I do?  I sure wouldn’t choose to hang out with her one on one, but he apparently liked hanging out with the both of us, and I really liked him (probably way too much), so I went along with it.

It reached a point at which I was supposed to guess the other woman’s age.  He & I were of similar ages (38/40), so I assumed she was too, but I’m not good at guessing age based on looks.  She looked young; she looked attractive; I figured she might be a little younger than him & me; maybe 35-ish; so I decided to guess a few years younger, just in case. I guessed 33.

She spurted out a playful sounding laugh and at first I thought it was based on her feeling delighted that I thought she looked younger than she actually was. I was wrong. 

I’m 23, she said in an annoyed voice.

Then I was annoyed at him for being so into a woman who was way more than ten years younger than both of us. Really!?!  I blurted out, in semi-disbelief. Next thing I knew they were both glaring at me.  A 38 year old man who I thought had felt very strongly about me personally – and a 23 year old woman I couldn’t relate to at all, but whom he also seemed to feel strongly about. I did not understand their connection and so I sort of freaked out, thinking he would try to work me out of my freak out and tell her to tone down her rude laughter.  “Should I just leave?” I asked.  “Do you want it to be you and the 23 year old?”  I was sure he’d say know and try to calm me down. Instead he looked at me with an unsmiling expression and glared out, ‘Yeah’.  A feeling of semi-devastated disbelief came over me then.

Me: Really?!?

Him: Yeah.

Me: Are you serious?!?

Him: YEAH!

Her: You heard him.  Get the hell out of here.

Rude, mean, gleeful smile.

 ***

Not a fun dream at all, since it involved real people and felt realistic - and even though the ending really surprised me, that surprise ending felt unfortunately realistic too.

When a relationship oriented ending surprises you.

When a man you thought felt truly strongly about you suddenly changes his mind - and then chooses to replace you with a woman way younger than either of you – a woman from whom you can clearly sense the vibe of fake chick who will say and do what she thinks he wants to hear, in order to take him away from you and he can’t sense her fakery.

When a bad dream combines age and relationship issues and causes you to make up feeling as if your looks and your personality and your life experience has no appeal and doesn’t really matter.

When you’ve become easy to replace with an uncaring mean chick almost 20 years younger than you.

When a pretty mean chick who laughs in your face when you lose is the one he chooses.