“functional and productive”

means exhaustion beyond belief

a bloody nose

meal of the day is a small iced coffee for lunch

racing heart and shot nerves

shit it’s midnight already?

sleep is the obvious answer

but that would mean a 10 hour coma

and 12 hour brain-fog

can’t afford that, not in this economy!

yeah, let’s blame society

pointing fingers is so much easier

than admitting this is as good as i get

if you can’t handle me at my best

then you should run like hell because this is it

or, when dysfunctional and unproductive inevitably rolls around

feign concern, kick back, grab some popcorn and a beer, relax

get the best seats in the house and 

witness the biggest movie cliche unravel right before your eyes

starring me myself and i

most likely in a bed that’s not my own,

a malicious handful of coaxing voices in my ear,

(not so) gently guiding me to the grand finale

and when the end credits roll,

nobody will clap,

shock replaces applause.

Isn’t it interesting how memory works? Sometimes you’re sitting and taking an exam and no matter how many hours you spent studying, no matter how hard you try to remember, no matter how long you sit there and watch the clock as the minutes crawl by, you simply can’t recall the information you know you need and tried so hard to cement into your brain.

And then other times you’re out with friends or you’re at the grocery store or you’re walking down the street, when you see or hear something that breaks a memory out of the cage you’ve tried so hard to keep it in and it unfolds in agonizing detail, despite your protests and when it finally ends, long after you’ve begged it to stop, you let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding and you smile at the person you forgot was next to you, and you continue a conversation that you didn’t know you left.