Going Forth With Less Fuckery

I’m asking myself tons of questions lately and one that keeps coming back to mind is
if I lived to be 92…
would 92 year old me look back on what I am doing right now with pride, amusement or regret?
I want her to have been amused for sure
which means if its not a hell yeah then clearly its a hell no-
especially since no full day is guaranteed to any of us-
I sit here worrying if my presentation is ready for the big meeting, if my check engine light popped on how would I finance a fix, all the while I’m missing an opportunity in the moment where there is no danger and nothing to fear, to enjoy its quiet sweetness, or laugh at the fact that I genuinely needed the pain of butterflies in my stomach to even notice what I feel before,
full ass warnings that you’re going the wrong way but survivable pain,
like roller coaster rides
so you hope
or do you
I’m asking myself why I have spent so long lost in thoughts of future catastrophes that I have compromised on essentials-
not taking the time to take care of me physically and mentally as a means of devotion and worship, instead of an after thought
after everyone else around me has been pleased
Brutal way to be, trust me
I at least know now that anyone who is around me
should be the kind of people who would tell me
if I had lipstick on my teeth.
If I’m confused, its bad news.
If they wouldn’t make sense in the day light, its simply not right-
I have at least progressed that far
would 92 year old me find any of that shit after 50, amusing?
Hardly. I’m getting it
I’m getting over it
I’m getting over it now.
My impression today of wasting away on the hopes of anyone else are fading fast.
Its not meant to last, none of this is.
Asking these kinds of questions to my hidden self help me to uncover my own motives- am I taking that trip because I want other people to think it is awesome that I’ve done the thing, am I writing the poetry down because I’ll die otherwise or because I’m still hoping for posthumous fame
what would 92 year old me think or say
probably bitch get outside, dance down the street what a privilege to move your hips and wiggle your toes and blink fast- bend at the waist as often and as quickly as you like, finger paint and take long showers and sing at the top of your lungs your favorite pop songs and showtunes, breathe in…
it certainly wouldn’t be to stress about things from the past
or things I can’t control
or catastrophes on the horizon because there is really only one out of the game,
only one way
only one way out
one end to the beginning and if this is not that then say yes to whatever I want to give my time and energy to
one yes is not an enteral yes of course and mind you
but what is
nothing is
I worry a lot about a he-but he is imaginary-an accessory-
like the kind of bag that signals wealth you can’t see
what would 92 year old me think
is she laughing at me, can I literally hear old ass future me laughing? Yikes but also yessssss
she is amused- look what you used to do girl, and what you got away with!
You tried it and to me that doesn’t seem like I settled down for any particular specific human being at all, does it?
Hmmm….
actually, actually, actually I don’t regret shit yet… not yet, not yet, not yet