life ends it for you
you don’t even have to walk away
— you act like there’s some kind of choice in it
oh, the universe gives you decisions — sure,
go on believing that
entropy is a fact, not an option
it all falls apart, everything breaks down
it’s even in the rain —
feel it in the snow…pieces of disaster,
always around like you’re the sun
you’re not at the center though,
it just seems that way —
you’re a piece, a crumb —
like me…
the skill comes in the form of fiction,
stories and arcs we make up for ourselves
— plots we commit ourselves to…
excuses dressed as reasons
these chains of causality
built up and comprised
mostly of shadow and wish
easy to break, harder to fake
you better build yourself a good one
otherwise we’re fucked…
but you already knew that
Garbage Notes:
This one’s about free will. It’s about choices and the extent to which those choices are actually real decisions or whether we just accept what life gives us.
It’s tricky because sometimes the better path to happiness means finding a way to like the life you have rather than chase the life you want. And in doing so we sort of have to be good at devising little fictions for ourselves.
The people with the most interesting lives are the ones who are best at making it all make sense, almost like a fairy-tale story—some coherent narrative where you are the wise and masterful architect sitting comfortably at the center of an otherwise complete and total cluster-fuck universe.
Anyway, it’s true, everything falls apart. And when I wrote this I was dealing with the reality of a lot of things breaking down. Relationships getting fucked up, jobs going to shit, friendships turning into total let-downs—you name it, this poem was conceived at a time of absolute failure, much of which felt beyond my control. But, what can I say… I’m a story teller. So what else could I do? I had to find a way to weave it all together into something meaningful, and turn all that fucked up shit into one compelling line after another.
It’s the only way…
Franco Amati 2023
Very compelling lines, Franco. Although I wonder whether the people who are best at making it all make sense (i.e., us writers) actually have interesting lives -- or do we just invent them to replace the insane or humdrum existence we truly have?
Compelling lines indeed. I love your commentary.
“the skill comes in the form of fiction,
stories and arcs we make up for ourselves
— plots we commit ourselves to…
excuses dressed as reasons
these chains of causality
built up and comprised
mostly of shadow and wish
easy to break, harder to fake”