So here I am
Trying to write a poem.
To find a purpose to it.
A profound message to speak upon.
In essence, I want to play Aristocrat
In this silly drama I call Deviant Art.
I’m trying too hard, I realize,
To make it work out.
I’m trying too hard, to pop off.
At some point,
It becomes less about the Art
But rather the attention you get from it.
There’s a game, I use to play when I was younger.
I would gather in a circle with my kindergarten class
And we’d all scream, “Look at me! Look at me!”
Hoping desperately that you would get the spotlight.
I guess I’m growing younger.
I remember in 9th grade...I would show off my intelligence
Only because I knew I got people’s attention from it.
I would bring a Rubik’s Cube every day to class & solve it endlessly
Rather than focus of academics.
This one time my teacher even invited me to solve it in front of the class
For no other reason than for pure enjoyment.
The adrenaline rush I got as the class clapped for me was like no other.
At that moment I knew deep inside what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.
But I had become an attention whore.
I got high off it.
It’s a drug.
You become obsessed.
And it turns you into a different person.
I mean…I guess I should be proud that I didn’t end up like Miley
And resort to whipping out my ass out in public.
I have work to do to remember that whatever work I’m doing
There’s millions trying to do the exact same thing as I am.
There are 7 billion 46 million people on this planet and trillions of stars in the universe.
I would have to have a tourniquet tied to my elbow to believe this universe gives a shit about some
Lonely Asian kid from some place old men in the 1500s named Canada.
That was my first thought,
As nihilistic as it was.
My second (and saner) thought was that…
Yeah. I struggle with loneliness.
I’m at a constant struggle with myself; telling myself there are people who care about me.
I have the right to want attention…but so does everyone else.
The building blocks of our existence are the existence of others.
We’re houses…made out of houses.
So I have to remember…
There are others trying to communicate here.