I’ve been lucky enough to get grants as an emerging artist, and my work has been shortlisted and published, but the amount of rejections compared to the amount of succesfull submissions is sometimes quite soul-crushing. Like on a Monday when you get two rejections on the same day from things which matter and you feel like screaming pick me, pick me, I am good enough for this but you make me feel like I am not.
Due to this, there’ll be no new poem for day number seven, since I firmly believe in feeling shite when you feel shite to get through it. Let’s be devasted and disappointed (and yes, I know this too shall pass, don’t worry) and read a combination of notes from my phone:
I think I have a bruise on my tongue
from talking too much?
Aimee calls me brave for going alone
Yet I have no courage to let anyone close.
As soon as the waves swallowed her
I reached out
As soon as the moon spit –
Do your fucking job I wish I had a fucking job
I have nowhere to go tomorrow
I guess we always thought we were the good guys
Van Gogh gets fun when you touch it and wait for security.
Sit ku on hyvin sekaisin
Juurihoito on ihan jees
Haluaisin lausua rakkausrunoa
vaan olut maistuu liian kauniilta
Mulla ei oo kiire mihinkään
Junat eivät nykyisin pysähdy enää missään
ne kulkevat vain eteenpäin
Ja me kävelemme kaupunkien kaduilla
etsimme yhteyttä yksiössä.