jeanbutts - Tumblr blog

[jeanbutts]

I’m not sure who is seeing this right now!

Or who cares!!

Do people still use tumblr?

Is this still a thing??

Regardless, I’m going to use this space as somewhere to document the poetry I’ve written in the past so that it’s safe and sound from potentially losing it.

I would someday in the future like to create a book compiled of all my poetry and call it-

Sad Day :(

The reason for this title is obviously because the majority of my poetry I write is mostly unhappy. Not because I’m depressed whatsoever! Because these days I’m mentally and emotionally in a very healthy place. I just feel that writing about the darker side of life comes much more naturally to me then being positive when on paper. It’s just works for me. It’s how I operate. ITS WUT I DEW.

That being said, please don’t mind my multiple posts coming up on yo timeline! Just trying to keep track of these suckers because I’ve lost SEVERAL amazing poems I’ve written in the past and I don’t want that to happen again! So here they are my pals,,,

Enjoy🌸

[jeanbutts]

Did a little photoshoot with the Northside today.

[jeanbutts]

Capacity for expansion

Hindered by incessant thoughts

Back and forth furiously through time

Our mind wrestles

And the exquisite grace

Of the present moment

Never wins

It never wins

[jeanbutts]

Fuck fuck fuck

The world around me, the people around me, the events that unfold before my eyes is so ever transforming, that I have a tricky time discovering where it is I fit exactly.

It feels that nowhere I go seems to be a place I truly belong to.

I haven’t a crowd, a spot. On the map I’m merely a dot.

Smaller, perhaps. A train that is always off tracks.

Where am I exactly?

It’s hard to tell. Floating about in my own personal hell.

Taking on shapes that don’t fit the slot. An eating & sleeping & burping robot.

A trail of breadcrumbs lead to my bed, where I lie & sulk in this existential dread.

Fake it to make it, that’s what they say, so I’m not the real person my image portays.

In this “reality” we live in authenticity is slim to none, as we all walk about and bite our tongue.

What really wants to be said stays hidden behind our teeth as we conform with social graces and the lines that they keep.

If silence is golden then speaking your mind must be silver. But where do we draw the line between words said with conviction and words that are fillers?

So here we vomit tongue in cheek, convincing ourselves and others of the words that we speak.

Words are so weak when we don’t know what they are, and yet so powerful, evil enough to leave scars.

It’s no wonder few of us know who we are, when we believe what we are, because we believe all we hear no matter how bizarre. These lies we hear aren’t going to take us far.

But who’s to blame for our naive nature? The limits of our language or the con man who wrote on your paper?

In this world we shall never know the truth as it really is. And beneath our suits and briefcases we’re all just little kids.

So take it in your ears with a grain of salt, especially the voices that wish to assault.

Everything out there seems to try to persuade you, sway you. Fuck it. Take your hidden truth and safely tuck it.

Put it in your wallet, I don’t give a shit. Just hide it away so no manipulation can get to it.

And keep taking society’s hits that strike you between the skull. The choice is yours if you wanna take control.

It’s no wonder the world is fucked. We’re hit with a sentence and can’t even duck. Toss these phrases in the back of a dump truck.

I don’t even know where I’m going with this poem. Fuck fuck fuck.

[jeanbutts]

You.

When you give me that look

I can’t believe my eyes

So exotically hypnotic(erotic)

That it makes me wanna cry

What’s up with you guys?

The nonchalant swagger must be heaven sent

Like an angel on earth

You leave my mind bent

How can I not help but love the essence that is you?

How can I not melt when the love is so true?

It’s a sticky situation as you cause me to come unglued

I would sell my soul to Satan just to have an hour with you

Our parts intertwining is my ultimate goal

A sensual eruption responsible for my loss of control

I love you, I love you, I LOVE YOU

And I can’t stress that enough

You create a vulnerability in me

Even though my skin is fucking tough

Give it to me rough

Then passionately slow it down

Eye contact burning so intense

I admire every shade of brown

You’ve got me going mad

The way you do the things you do

You are everything I could dream of

And I can’t help but to love the essence that is you.

[jeanbutts]

Inside work 10/20/17

My therapist and I did the inside work today and I chose to work on the part of me that wants to stay in bed and avoid life, because that part of me is going to ultimately ruin my life and totally waste it if I don't face why it's there and why I do it. My therapist has me close my eyes. “Take some nice deep breaths. Feel your weight in the chair. Feel what’s going on in your body. Go back to before you were like this. Tell me what you see. Trust what you perceive.” It brought me back to my dads basement, where I had to live after a serious event of psychosis. I had to live there because I got kicked out of the apartment that my best friend Jeremiah and I had just moved into together because of my mental breakdown. He didn't want me living there (although he never told me that, I just know, because I can read him) and neither did the landlord, because of my mental instability. I had such high hopes when I moved in with him, everything was going to be perfect, and decorated just how we liked it, and life was supposed to be amazing, but mental illness came about, and I got the boot. By the time I was out of the hospital, all of my shit was moved out of our place and into my dads depressing basement. I was stripped of my independence and Jeremiah and I were no longer friends because he pushed me away. I lost my job. Now I'm living off of disability checks and still feel stripped of my independence and openness to life and people in general. I keep my interactions short and shallow. Even my close friends I don't feel close to. I think everyone is better than me, more put together than me, more fulfilled than me. I'm scared of myself and I’m scared of everyone, even you. I'm scared that people will find a reason not to love me anymore and decide to leave me. So I keep my walls up. I try to stay safe. I act a certain way and am a people pleaser because I want to be liked. I kind of shift and change depending on who I'm around and what kind of me I've discovered I can be around them. Because when I was myself, my goofy funny wild self, around Jeremiah, I felt free and happy, and when he left my life and didn't wanna fuck with me anymore, I had to change and shift that self into something else, because by being myself I must have pushed him away. So I became I new me, a me that I hardly recognize, a me that I don't like, a me that would rather be dead every single day then to go on each day feeling false, like half a person, and feeling detached, like every person I interact with theres a glass wall between us, preventing me from actually connecting, and actually understanding. And when shit gets hard, you realize who your true friends are. It’s funny how they become ghosts and pretend like they never knew you when they see you in public. I morn the death of those friendships but also feel blessed that I have more real and genuine people in my life now. Thanks to everyone who stuck around.

[jeanbutts]

killing time killing me - 11/22/17 (happy thanksgiving eve)

i’m sitting in dry itchy grass

waiting for answers to fall from the sky

as i puff on this cigarette

waiting for my turn to die

the sun is out and the air is lukewarm

the breeze feels like soft kisses on my skin

but i could care less about its pleasantness

probably going to do the same shit i did yesterday

and the day before that

and the day before that

i’m still in my sloppy ass pajamas

my hair looks like i just had some wild ass sex

i wOkE uP LiKe Dis

it’s noon o’clock

the ground beneath me is partially dead from lack of care

the clouds and trees look like emojis

fluffy white and pine green

i’m in the backyard at my place on the south side

where everyone is not too poor and not too rich

as i stare at a screen, everyone beams

apparently it’s everyones dream day

everyone on Instagram is winning 

everything you see on the internet is true

scroll

Sadie is in Jamaica having the time of her life

drinking those fancy drinks through a coconut with one of those little umbrellas poking out of the top

got a boyfriend who’s equally as hot 

she looks really great in a two piece

i wish i looked great in a two piece

scroll

Michael tied the knot with his little lady 

they just upgraded homes

got a nice place on the west side of town with heated floors and a four car garage

i barely have one fucking car

scroll

Lindsey is having another baby

that makes four

she’s ecstatic

she sells leggings online to other moms

apparently it’s a booming business

what bitch doesn’t like leggings

her life appears stable and fulfilling

she takes the kids to church every sunday

says she found jesus

i can hardly take care of my damn self let alone another

and Jesus who?

scroll

light another cigarette 

and then there’s all the rando’s that i follow

people that i found thru hours of creeping upon creeping

people that look pretty and interesting and cool

watching their lives makes me drool

constantly traveling

going to concerts

wearing trendy clothes

hanging out with people equally fun and cool

living the life i’ve always wanted

log out

i wonder when i’m going to figure my shit out

i wonder when i’m going to find my way out

i wonder when i’m going to break free

i kill time before time kills me

[jeanbutts]

Whore or more

I call myself a whore I wonder what this tiring game of lust is for I’m pulled back and forth in a ceaseless tug of war Any time that intimacy occurs My nagging inner voice murmurs “What did you do that for?” My clothes lie on the floor And when the sex is done I feel empty, used, picked apart and tossed The game is over and I’m the one who lost You want my body, but at what cost? I truly believe That a little piece of me dies After each naughty encounter with random guys It makes me feel low instead of feeling high But everyone’s doing it Casually sleeping around Finding new mates as they’re out on the town Get their fix Sucked dicks Then they turn around And search for the next bitch to pound Why can they do it, but when I do, it brings me down? I’ve always felt sex to be sacred Taking off your layers and seeing each other naked Not only is it the intertwining of body parts But the sharing of minds and hearts And time after time I find myself playing the game Because he’s doing it And she’s doing it So I do it Just for kicks I open up my bag of tricks Looking for sexual partners like a kid in a candy store Browse around and take your pick Which lollipop do you want to lick? And the fact that it makes me sick Sets me apart from the masses They are heat seeking missiles who just wanna tap asses I’m not saying I’m better than them Or that they’re wrong and I’m right Do whatever makes you feel alright But sex and love making are two separate things And if you ask me if I’d fuck someone just because they’re hot I’m here to tell you that I would rather not And if you choose to see me for just the surface Then giving myself to you isn’t worth it unless you’re willing to love me for me Then keep your dick away from me You just want my appealing aspects Swiping right on a mission to get sexually active Don’t I look like the complete package? Fuck outta my dm’s telling me I’m attractive If that’s all you see then leave me be I want the kind of sex that will set me free And you, sir, will never be the one for me

[jeanbutts]

freewriting 11/12/17

why is it so hard to keep my head above water? why is a peaceful and open state of mind seem to be impossible to obtain? why am i here? why do the struggles seem to overpower the triumphs? why does true happiness seem to slip from my fingertips right when i think i’ve got a grasp on it? this is what i want from life that i can never seem to get/keep for long. i want an optimistic outlook. i want to see people, and myself, with loving and compassionate eyes. i want to find a passion that allows me to pour myself totally into it. i want to feel at one with what i’m doing and with who i’m doing. i’m tired of sex making me feel used up and empty. i’m tired of being confused about who i am. i’m tired of having a fearful and anxious mindset. i’m tired of being a quiet and awkward motherfucker. i don’t want to have to use drugs and alcohol as a crutch and a way for me to feel like i can relate to/bond with people. it’s a sad life. i am usually distant and cold. i would love to find that one guy who i can completely open up to. people say “you have to love yourself before you can love anyone else” but how on earth does one love themselves? somedays it feels like i can do that but most days i despise me. i count all my failures and flaws and the list seems endless. i just need to figure out how to shift into the opposite mindset. i feel like i need constant reminders and reassurance from peers that i am indeed a good and beautiful person. my twenties suck. i read in a book that as your looks begin to fade, the true essence of yourself begins to shine through. i am scared for my looks to fade. who will stick around and love me when i’m old and grey? and most importantly, will i have the capacity to love me? will i grow older and colder and die alone with 8 cats? will the most exciting part of my days be ordering shake weights and waffle makers from infomercials? i can’t help but paint myself into a bleak and lonely future. lately i’m trying to quiet and still my mind to make way for inspiration and beauty to pour in. i want to see things clearly, not from a place of fear and self doubt. I WANT TO BELIEVE IN ME. i need that motivation to move forward. i’ve been stagnant for so long and i can’t stay that way. i want to be excited for my future, not terrified of it. i don’t want to doubt my abilities anymore. i need to change my beliefs for the better.

[jeanbutts]

not today satan (freewriting) 11/11/17

i’m confused. i don’t know where to turn from here. i’m on the threshold of change and i’ve been prepped for it spiritually, mentally and emotionally and now it’s up to me and my inner guidance to lead me into my next move. life is crazy. i am crazy. i feel as if i’m a different person lately. different in the sense that i’m more open to new experiences. open to new friendships, open in the way that i feel the love radiating and i embrace it and accept it into my heart. my anxiety is almost nonexistent these days. i am OKAY with being me. i believe in me. i believe in others and try to see the best in them. i’m uplifting and encouraging. the skeptical part of me whispers in my ear like a devil on my shoulder. it tells me i don’t deserve to be happy. it tells me i’m not capable of achieving my dreams and goals. it tries to tear me down completely and keep me crippled and stagnant. NO. enough is enough. i am worthy of my dreams. i DESERVE to be happy. i will no longer allow this naysaying voice hold me back from being my best in life. i will no longer listen to this voice when it tells me i’m stupid and boring and worthless and better off dead. i will be my best for not only myself but for the people around me who love me and wish to see me thriving. i will listen to my body and care for it. i will continue to start my mornings(or afternoons) with prayer and meditation and i will make my bed everyday damn it. i will take the reigns and control the things i am able to control and leave the rest to fate. that way i’ll know i’m doing everything i can for myself to lead a full and happy life. i will treat everyone with respect and make them feel loved. i will try my best to see people for who they are and not judge them based on surface appearance. we are all the same and have the same basic needs. i am not better than you and you are not better than me. the only person i need to compete with is myself. it’s time for me to mute the raspy babbles in my head, the one who sneaks in and pitches a tent up there when i’m most vulnerable. NO. enough is enough. i’d be damned if i let this voice destroy all of my potential and block out all that is good. not today satan. you are no longer welcome to occupy space in my brain. now that i have the tools to keep you away i will use them to fight you off every single day. if it were up to you i would never leave bed. i would watch myself age and rot and die alone. i can no longer envision that bleak future for myself when i know that i’m capable of so much more. i will climb every mountain, pummel through every obstacle necessary until i’m dead. there’s no more room for you in my head. rest in peace.

[jeanbutts]

night fight // 9-5-17

i fight with night.

the night wishes to pull me in

to which i comply.

“forget about your responsibilities” it says, “forget everything, it’s time to sleep”

it speaks to me as though it’s a loving authority figure. it tells me it’s time.

time to let go of the day and all it’s nuisances, its let downs, its disappointments.

i’m lured in by it’s appeal.

“take as much time as you need” it says “there’s always tomorrow” 

a day which will also be wasted. 

it seems the night has sucked me into it’s clutches and decided to linger into the morning and early afternoon hours.

it tells me it’s okay, okay to give in, to let go, to surrender to sleep until my body tells me it’s time to arise. next thing i know half my day is lost to the previous night. 

i wake up too late with heavy eyes and a heavier body. my body weighs down with self disappointment.

“oh well, there’s always tomorrow” night says, even though my day hasn’t even begun. it’s already tainted, already spoiled.

my days feel wasted and i’m not even sure whose fault it is. mine or the nights?

the night speaks to me at all times of the day, it reminds me that it will always be there.

“i will take you again, and bring you to the only place you can be you”

i get so lost in my dreams that something inside of me urges for them to never end. maybe night’s right. maybe the darkness is the only place i can truly be me. the only place i can let go and effortlessly be. maybe something happened to cause me not to be so friendly with the daytime. so instead of living my life, i avoid.

i struggle with my waking life. i struggle with purpose. i call out to the sky but get nothing in return, not even a whisper. i feel so lost, so confused. that’s why i always succumb to sleep. it’s the only place i won’t be judged, the only place i can’t be a fuck up, or say and do the wrong things. it’s a place i can be dead without being dead.

it will always be a fight between the night and light. a tug of war. the night winning almost always. i pray for a shift in my life, a change. i await that days arrival. until it does, i fight with night.

[jeanbutts]

in search of... 8/22/17

i open a book

is the answer to my problems written on these pages?

try my best to memorize every word

but shortly after the book is finished i forget everything i read

the hope was short lived and the emptiness creeps back in,

consuming me once again

self-help, my ass

i stop into the chapel on a sunday morning

i look to the people on my left and right

i copy what they do

sing when they sing

stand when they stand

kneel when they kneel

like playing a game of simon says

but still, i find no solution

at least i can go back home and change into my regular clothes

i lift the glass and drink its contents

perhaps the cure is inside this rum and coke

i use it to chase a pill of some sort

a pill the doctors say could help or make things worse for me

guess i’ll find out

i wake up the next morning in worse shape then the one before

i chase my pill with water today

maybe i will find peace tomorrow.

[jeanbutts]

random scribbles- 7/15/17

why so difficult to turn thoughts into words? my brain is a tangled mess. how am i to access creativity? is it even there? or did it vanish? the words come and go within me but the second i get the pen and paper i’m immediately stumped and at a loss. too much is happening in my head that i wish i understood. maybe i’m afraid to understand it. maybe if i made sense of it then it would give me a reason to hate myself more. to hate myself for reals. but then what? know me and hate me or remain a mystery? 

i’m a puzzle that i have yet to put together. a thousand pieces (at least) all mixed up in a box that i sit and stare at. it’s far too daunting to try and put together but man imagine how accomplished i’d feel once all the pieces were finally in place! imagine how beautiful it would look. maybe i’m afraid of the image i’ll see so i sit and stare at the box while it collects dust in an empty room. truth is i’m the only one who can possibly put it together. i’m allowed a little help here and there from a coworker, a family member, my psychotherapist, and whoever else decides to help with the efforts, some knowingly, some un. but they pitch into my efforts of self discovery by telling me things, or even just being a certain way. they tell me things that i couldn’t figure out for myself and put a piece or two into place. then there are the dick heads who destroy my efforts. single handedly take the pieces away and stuff them back into the messy ass pile. de progress. they fill my head with nonsense and they don’t even know it. and the sad part, half the time i have no idea what they’re feeding me is bullshit. all i know is that i have a different way of thinking, different mood or different perspective after spending time around these entities. spend time and spend time. either because i have no choice in the matter or because i’m getting something out of it, whatever that may be. next thing i know i’m caught up in a life that is unintended and meaningless, floating along and drifting further into territories of unconsciousness and desperate confusion. doing and saying things that aren’t even me anymore. so lost in the not me that i don’t even recognize the real me if there was one. my life is so off course but am i even to blame?

---FREEWRITING-----slightly edited---

[jeanbutts]

orange bottle/white cap 1/30/17

“are you okay?” they ask

“you’re showing signs again

I can tell something’s not right”

because i’m wittier than usual

snappier

more extroverted

I’m laughing loudly at things

that the majority wouldn’t find humor in

I’m feeling vibrations on a different plane

and because of that

they ask if I’m okay

I’m more than okay

in fact, I'm better than ever

the worried look on their faces is a joke to me

what is the big deal? 

“well, this is how you were behaving

before …it… happened last time”

okay

but at this point

no fucks are given on my end

I’ve already crossed the threshold

and there’s no turning back now

so although everyone being concerned for me

is causing me concern for me

I’m only feeling about 10% concerned

and the other 90% is pure mania

“have you been sleeping?

eating? are your taking your meds?”

no, not really, and of course the fuck not

what good have those pharmaceuticals done for me?

make me feel dead inside?

make me pack on pounds?

make me sluggish and dull?

no thanks

and so here I am

in the present moment

not quite in touch with their mutual reality

probably have dark circles around my eyes

probably looking a bit thin

probably too distracted to practice self care lately

(or any of my responsibilities as an adult for that matter)

and definitely not giving many shits

let me get a little nutty

let the bored people in this town fill their mouths with my stories

and have a fucking heyday

if I gave a fuck

then I wouldn’t be in this current situation

because if I gave a fuck

I would swallow those pills every morning

like the doctors order

I have no back up plan

I’d rather ride this thing out

because reaching these heights

is the closest I’ve been to heaven

so those antipsychotics you want me to take?

I have another suggestion of where you can put em

“but Amy, it will happen again and again

you’re bipolar and that doesn’t just go away

and if you take this drug with hella side effects

you can be a functioning member of society

like the rest of us”

there they all go

instilling fear inside of me

they nag and they nag

I never hear the end of it!

I might be a little broken in my brain

something gets loose up there from time to time

but I sure as hell don’t think that these daily pills

are going to magically fix me

and if I have to conform to what they say is best for me

then I will forever be living a life that is not my own

no. can. do.

so my stubbornness

and dread for meds

always takes me back to the same familiar place-

face down in the dirt

wondering what in the actual fuck

because between my reality of reality

and my reality of mania

there is a no mans land

a desolate place of uncertainty

where I linger for weeks

months

even years

until the cycle repeats itself all over again

like a nightmarish roller coaster

that I never consented to ride

and all I ask

is for you to let me be

give me some empathy, not an orange bottle with a white cap

and if you can’t love and accept me

for all that I am

then please leave.