Forget the Hustle

I just want to play with rocks

When I first wrote this, it started as “F*ck the hustle,” but I’ve gone soft on you.

Image found at kraszlab

Forget the hustle, I just want to play with rocks,

I want to sit by the water and escape the knocks.

I want, I want, that’s not the point,

and the knocks are all the matter, eventually.

It’s just that “eventually” sometimes lasts too long.

Or it’s longer than we’re able to comprehend.

All we have is our measly 24-hour context on repeat.

Every time, THIS is the time.

Or is that just a phase? We’ll miss it when it’s gone.

Isn’t the point of it all to be here and be healthy?

to help other people find purpose

and stick around long enough so that we find our own

Is it all one big selfish soup? Or a slow roasting of your own youth?

It’s a balance, they say, it’s a boy! It’s a beautiful bouncy castle,

but there’s a leak somewhere we simply have to plug.

And the superglue won’t stick until we realize there’s no escape necessary.

We’re inside and out; the membranes don’t matter. It’s bouncy on both sides.

So get the pump out, but which pump? Just choose your favorite one

because the pump is your everything, and it’s nothing at all

Start bouncing, keep bouncing, never stop bouncing,

then fly away, because tomorrow isn’t real.