Ask my parents.
they’ll tell you, my favorite phrase growing up
was, “I can do it all by myself.” One day, I sat spinning the top of my Flinstones
vitamin bottle wondering, how many spins until this thing
opens my mom, insisting that she help,
No, I told her, I can do it all by myself, And I’ve been doing this all by myself
this, college thing, in case you were wondering
I’m getting out of here with a fantastic GPA
and a pretty impressive resume, I don’t know about you,
but for me, college, is great. Except for, you know,
my tendency to sometimes, a lot of the time, procrastinate
Hey Facebook, hey old yearbook is that picture frame hanging quite right?
oh what’s that? you want me to count the stars?
sure, just give me a long enough essay to write. Maybe one that’s worth twenty percent of
my grade one with potential to ruin my GPA
when I need a 3.7, no I need a 3.8 if I even want to put it on my resume
’cause I want something more than that 9-5, commuter drive
making just enough to eat, maybe this week I’ll survive. So I know, I know, It’s just an essay.
But it’s also just my life and I don’t want to write it wrong
so I guess I’m not getting any sleep tonight. And I get it, I’m a perfectionist
trust me, I’ve googled enough shit on it to write a fucking Bible on it
but nothing on those self-help sites seemed to help
and there was that one week I resorted to punishing myself
painting red tally marks on my bicep for every night of the week I failed myself
but how can I tell anyone this? that it took me three whole hours to write
a goddamned sentence how pathetic.
I’m too old for this self-harm bullshit so, how do I fix this? how do I fix this?
How do I sleep? ‘cause I’ve gotten something like ten
hours of it this week and when I’m driving late at night the snakes
turn into lines I mean the lines turn into snakes
sometimes I hallucinate and everything starts spinning in circles
like the tops of bottles of vitamins and I’ll start
running in circles or walking in circles or
crawling in circles or just lying on the ground
treating my iPod shuffle like a magic eight ball
maybe The Front Bottoms will tell me what to do
when I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do.
Last night, my forearms started to look a lot like canvases
and I don’t own too many long sleeved shirts so before I go out and buy more long sleeved
shirts I thought I’d try something else
So this is me, finally, admitting,
that maybe, I can’t, do this,
all by, myself.