You’re here.
That’s your first mistake.
You’re not at church.
You’re not at work.
Not watching the latest marvel movie
at a bar, a game, the gym
anywhere else.
For whatever reason
you are here.
Let me tell you what that
means.
You could be in church,
stale robes screaming!
about how unworthy YOU are
perfection
the only currency
of any value other than
your wallet.
You could be at work,
for five cents on the dollar;
some worth there at least…
not much though.
So you’re here.
You’re here. Okay,
but you could be at the movies!
Some ubermensch sees the world ending,
finds himself, his friends and stops it.
All the action! The machismo!
The heroics!
The good guys… always… winning…
Yet
you’re here, where they often…
just fucking don’t.
I get it,
but you could be out on the town,
submerged in whatever works
to blur the world as it is.
A backwards magic eye painting,
that makes more sense
distorted,
digestible even.
Is it too early? Too late?
Whatever-
You’re here.
Not at a game, a jersey on,
screaming at the top of your lungs
about how worthy your boys are-
(not theirs, never theirs)
You could be there,
But that’s,
that’s a lot;
so you’re here.
You’re not at the gym,
living the nightmare to reach the dream
of immortality.
Some absolute unit telling you you’re doing great,
you’re almost there,
just one more,
just one more,
just one more,
just one more.
You’re here.
By choice.
Vulnerable but celebrated,
knowing the good guys, ladies
and everyone
in between
or beyond;
they lose, and lose and lose –
but they get back up, they show up.
Not paid to be here,
still
finding value.
Staring the world down,
seeing it for what it is,
unflinching,
and finding worth in every corner,
every shadowed table
every wilted head.
You’re here
and that’s enough.
Being here is a mistake
a mutation
an evolution.
But be here.
Be strange.
Be loved.