OthetMeditation has shown me a lot of things these past twenty something days.
It’s shown me a Spotify playlist of the past ten songs to make their way into my essays.
It’s shown me a paper trail of the gaping, grimacing thoughts with faces
That float through my consciousness like the river styx.
It’s shown me the schematics for the invisible petting zoo that’s been constructed around little Fitzy by others.
Of all the imaginary things I could choose to believe in, like Sasquatch, or irrational numbers, or a functioning American Democratic system,
I’ve chosen, temporarily, to believe in little Fitzy’s pen.
I want this to stop.
Meditation has shown me how fraught my river of thoughts is with
Others’ purposeless anger wrapped up in conversational bows
How the little twinge of satisfaction from choosing a divergent path gives me the feeling of control over someone’s general indifference towards me.
How little I perceive some of these Oxford corners to give a damn.
The name tag on my chest that reads a negative bank statement rather than Fitzgerald.
A frightening majority of my thoughts go towards the perceived unimportance that’s been slapped across my body.
About how it feels once again like a war-zone to go into dinner
One part of me slowly chewing tortellini,
The other in a silent battle with baseless pity and compared superiority.
I will evict my inner fascination with the box everyone wants me to step into
From the corners of my utterly beautiful mind.
I will call these fears loudly by their surnames
Until the cowards that bow to them understand that vulnerability is powerful.
For the love of God, vulnerability is powerful.
I will surround myself in the spaces where I will not be scrutinized
And meditate every damn moment of the day.
Nine days left, days full of morning runs and spiritual vacations,
Of eating alone and staying in to write,
Longboard trips across Oxford in the dead of night,
Don’t you dare pity me for living like this.
I will have my solitude and self-love with happiness a hundred-fold
Compared to all the bells and whistles and gimcracks you could offer
At the bottom of the box that you bait me towards.
Meditation has shown me that I can live life with a smile away from your ugly thoughts.
Meditation has braced myself to the garters of my rock-solid peace.
Meditation has won me the struggle of fitting contentedness in the palm of my hand.
It has given me so much more than your empty conversations,
Any carrots you’ve tossed me from the outside of the petting zoo.