Balance in Design

I have a surfeit of abhorrence,
I reject them with disdain.
Not antipathy, but an acquired disgust
For the execrated maimed.

I wholly regret my convictions,
As the blame they claim is small.
Design exhibits its most horrid flaw. --
If design govern…in anything at all.


and it doesn't. and i know that. but i could never say that. people don't want to hear it. people want to flip the pillow over to the cool side and think they are safe.

safe and sound in the delicate balance.

i have no balance, i cannot find the medium, the medium between what i should do and what i end up doing. between who i should like and who i end up next to. between what i listen to and what i dance to. between my deadbeat friends and the friends going places. between the lies that hurt and the lies that feel good. between the future i should pursue and the future that i don't care about, oh wait, last chance, those are one in the same.

a beautiful soul is sitting across from me studying for the mcat. i care about him, and he is one of those going places. and myself? i'm trying to save the neurologically-impaired through words and creativity and i am getting absolutely nowhere. i am a joke. ma vie est une blague. and fuck you, because you know what? so is yours. the kids are still crippled and you haven't made anyone proud yet.

i'm angry. i'm not content. i'm stealing glances at his stomach when the nurse sticks the needle in. i'm stealing glances when he leans forward to adjust his IV and the neck of his gown dips down. i'm stealing air from others when i suck it in, trying desperately to catch it, this is great, folks.