Ben Bonkoske

I can handle rejection, but I can’t always believe it. My problem is a lot of little problems that build up to a severe inconsistency, unreliability, or a flat-out joke. I only started taking myself seriously in that serious way where I can properly judge my endeavor with the doubt that comes from pursuance this past year. Before that, it was blissful ignorance. I wasted a year doing what I love. I’m ready to go home. The tears over the years have gone stale. My heart beats for something obviously unobtainable. I got rejected dude. My worst case scenario didn’t work out so I’m left with the joke that my best-case scenario will work out, or to just go KLABLAMO. I practice karate in the mirror when I’m feeling strong-willed. It happens, but not enough to be appreciated or praised in the prideful way I do so often. I have the feeling that so much stress is flooding my brain I can’t think clearly. I’m having a silent mental meltdown. Global warming. There are too many unique snowflakes. There are always so many things to blame but I never conclude that maybe I’m just not good at what I want to do. I can’t give up. Not because I have gone this far, but because I have nothing to go back to. I am so unhappily young. I used to always want to go back to a simpler time. Now, I just want to discover all the fucked-up conflicts and tribulations that occur later in life so I can write about them. So I can die over them. One more learning experience. I need to start getting up earlier. For her sake, for my sake. I think I can’t think straight without 10 hours of sleep. No lifestyle besides unemployment is going to accommodate that laziness. I’m trying really really hard. It is too late to look at old loves and past lives. Tear them apart and dissect them like exposed organs. Yes, nothing has changed, I feel the same about it all. I put people on pedestals and am surprised when I’m disappointed. Including you, God.