theromanticallyrepressed

[theromanticallyrepressed]

How to not be emo in a time of restless yearning 01/18/25

I’m sitting here, writing in my bed trying to come up with things to say about the place i’m at in my life. The end of last year wrapped up with me getting an executive chef fired, and then being let go from my main source of income. To say the least, the stress and absolute turmoil has taken over in many ways. To put it plainly, i had a major and deeply inappropriate workplace romance that surpassed many lines of power imbalance and emotional manipulation. For the first week after i did not go out, and i stayed at home with my cats. i played my records, i cooked, or maybe i got high and ate edibles.

This was not how i wanted to keep living. I went on a couple of dates, made out with strangers at bars, and then eventually got black out drunk where i slipped in my own vomit. This was also NOT how i wanted to live.

Cut to, this week, i started a new job. And am slowly moving up the ladder at work. this is exciting. However this brings me to where i want to write this. Beginning in August i started seeing someone who i fell so hard for, the sex was amazing. And nothing like any connection i had had the opportunity to experience in years. We became friends, and slowly but surely i developed deep feelings for him. I eventually told him i liked him, in which he did not reciprocate. We remain friends, and we do still hookup. But starting this week i realized i was liking him again, and felt a deep jolt hit my stomach any time he mentioned going on dates, as i was also. I have decided i need to distance myself because god, i can not lose the friend i’ve made in him.

It’s easy to say the phrase “this is what being in your early 20s is all about” but is it? is it really being with people who don’t love you the way you love them. Is it really this constant and aimless wandering wanting love so deeply that the first person, whether they’re good or bad, emotionally available or absolutely not, comes knocking on your door and you say absolutely yes. I don’t want to buy into that.

Here is what i’ve done for myself to remove that from my life right now. I’ve written a song, I’ve listened to podcasts, i recentered on my job. I’ve talked with my girlfriends. I’ve made two playlists. does it numb the noise, absolutely not, I still want to check my phone multiple times a day to see if he’s texted, but i also have gotten into the routine of putting my phone on do not disturb, and that seems to help a touch. I’m a believer in silencing men on my phone, dare i say i have multiple people with no contact name in my phone too, just area codes and seven numbers that follow, because again, unless you are staying, why receive serotonin in there’s nothing that pays off in the end. Maybe that makes me sound harsh, but my time and hours are so deeply precious. Why waste this life?

I’ve spent more time watching movies than i ever have before alone. it feels deeply gratifying in some semblance of the way. My Letterboxd will have countless reviews this year finally. Or so i hope.

This truth is this, noise begins to get quiet after a certain point, and the pain will ease eventually too. This is not the end, and this will not be my end. Friends come and go, lovers flock and go away for warmer days in the winter. Maybe this is just the january blues, and maybe you dear reader haven’t even finished to this last end of words i have prepared. But here’s looking at you kid. Here’s to more of a year where we choose ourself, and romanticize what is around us more. Breathe in the fresh air.

[theromanticallyrepressed]

I'm really into monogamy these days.

Only one thought at a time.

Everything else is cheating...

[theromanticallyrepressed]

O’ you that must know

O’ Pretend,

To be present in the world i walk around

To be screaming in cars

Or walking into on coming traffic 

Like a hug or warm embrace

Crying does no justice, and running takes far too much from me. 

My energy is my own, my heart source is like a precious stone, absolute, and treasured. 

Let it be known,

Felt and heard from yards, millenia. 

A beacon

A lighthouse for lost sailors,

My body, a home cooked meal, ready for consuming

Leave me a crumb, a leftover to save for myself.

Let me eat off the plates others do so willingly. 

And what if you are my meal?

A perfect pomegranate bleeding down my arm, 

As the juice falls gracefully to my lips. 

Take but not be taken,

Yearn but not yearned for, 

Needed but not known. 

These are the times we live under. 

If not for the truths we speak, or tales we twist, 

Wrapping like thorns around my waist, rather than kind hands that care for my precious belly. 

I won’t fight, i wont take a finger out of turn, for you are mine, and if i am truly yours, 

Treat me and show me just that. 

Let it never be a question, 

An answer never needed nor uttered into the ether. 

Bodies collide, the song,  just as sweet. 

Made for completion with one, to the next. 

Horny poets write for the birds, 

And I, for the moon, and many more. 

[theromanticallyrepressed]

langston hughes

[theromanticallyrepressed]

i am very quiet today, i am reminded of the good things and the things to look forward to. there is fresh air to hold in my chest this morning, there are smiling faces i get to see today. i am loved, i am safe. this is not the end

[theromanticallyrepressed]

primed and pattented,

particularly prim and proper.

i cant help but stare at myself in the mirror waiting for the reflection to talk back to me. like a dare.

the old ways living among us.

they are vibrant, and burning into my eyes like a fire.

like staring into a dark closed store front,

the anticipation that you'll see something dash in front of your eyes.

the macabre, an isolation in oneself. running from the feeling of aimless wandering. maybe because we never felt content to begin with.

snowshoes laced up, as the arctic tundra prepares us for the coldest journies. waiting, till another walker finds us along the way as well.

[theromanticallyrepressed]

in a world full of jack harlow wannabes,

who is taking the time to know themselves

your hobbies or distastes

likes or misuses.

so focused on the second chance of fame

a spotlight to shine on your reverence

but alas, like the shoe against a door

you are just everyone else is. hold that thought close,

be at peace that you are to others

an equal

[theromanticallyrepressed]

republica’s ‘by the fireplace’

a walking memory, with drags from my cigarette

the glow of street lamps shining down below.

smelling like a walking old fashioned over the rock of a cold heart.

a second shift drink, or a wink from someone over half my age.

old habits die hard, but memories die far harder and sweeter

maybe i’m kidding myself when i really disguise sour as the sweetest.

[theromanticallyrepressed]

Night Moves

folded sheet, folded chair

2am phone calls, stiff cold air.

ivory skin, tall dog, cat hair on my clothes,

milk glass and embroidered throws.

kentucky blues whistling through the tall grass,

swimming, swirling clouds in my coffee to cream,

empty frames hung from the highest points on the wall,

and the sweet decor replacing my personal sours.

rolled down car windows paired to melancholic tunes of a midnight move,

if it weren’t for my need of nostalgia— who am i make believing myself into?

If we learn to live like this maybe we can learn to be content with ourselves more, in this certainty we call life.

A year by, but i am in the same place a last.

Who am i chasing this time? What?

[theromanticallyrepressed]

Oh to be so many versions of myself in one,

simply because the fear of being one is far too great.

sitting with what rejections will be at the hand of my new found predecessor,

humanity and her pull to be more than herself

pulling me closer towards you in your bed

blankets weighing us down with the warmth between our hearts

close but never close enough, because your fingers are slipping from the tips of mine

[theromanticallyrepressed]

whiskey tears, whiskey truths, whisky lies, whiskey blues…

holding fast and dreaming over and over, these glorious mountains, morning glories

i feel the grass between my toes, hear the streams and water throw, feel a burn that coats my throat. all the while, misty morning air grows from below.

the sun touching me, and my chest falling soft and sweet.

[theromanticallyrepressed]

i’m finding it hard to trust myself

this version, the last one, previous to all the versions i’ve been.

stamped for approval, fresh off the press.

i’m tired, and feeling it in my body a lot. who am i to say, what am i to say.

[theromanticallyrepressed]

Wine stained thoughts,

It’s all too similar

These hedonistic comforts eb and flow, sway us through the nightshade. like a dance to end all waltz’s.

The smell in the air is muggy, a deep thick weighing heavy on my chest.

This need for a thought, an action, direction..

lost, and found in the moments. like staring into a voidless mirror.

my wine drunk thoughts, whiskey lips, it’s all thoughts written down, scratched to a page

[theromanticallyrepressed]

the lights crashing 

flashing 

booming noise and sound 

stagnant screaming on and on.

silent glances

Sweet hello and how’re you’s 

corner passings

embraces, reactions 

your Soft eyes Are fixed looking in Mine

while I can barely breathe looking into you

[theromanticallyrepressed]

big dog

folded, seated on the chair.

huffing loudly, the air she held close.

snow peas, swimming in soup on the stove.

this is kentucky living i say

[theromanticallyrepressed]

drafts///

What is it to love, 

What is it that attracts us as people to the feeling of being lost in one’s thoughts? Arms? To surmount this feeling in everyone’s search for the lessening of lonesomeness. The feelings of belonging, group settings, or another. Oh to love, to believe in an utter rapturous kind of love, to be void of daily do’s. To strip the clothes of utter responsibility, all that consumes is the feeling of pleasure. The orgasmic desire that has my breath thick at a moment's notice. If I was able to be covered In a wave I would, swooped over in the endless cycle of desire. 

Why am I so captivated by the thought of that? The pit that grows in the stomach. If my body was weighed down by a stone, I'd drown by the very beast that swallowed me whole. Dragged by the tongue that traces down my body. I sit and breathe in, and out feelings of ecstasy. My soul is captivated by the intrinsic wirings within me. 

[theromanticallyrepressed]

Solemn mind

tracked down as her trail dwindles in the snow