Out Of The Darkness And Into The Light

J Poet

[s0mewhere-only-we-know]

Have you ever wanted it all to stop?

Not in a no longer being alive type of way.

Although there is something to be said about that too.

But to stop wanting, needing, expecting and hoping.

I feel like I’d be less miserable if my own hopes, expectations, needs and wants didn’t exist.

If I didn’t wake up wanting to smell you in my bed.

If I didn’t wake up needing your arms around me.

If I didn’t wake up expecting you to be there.

If I didn’t wake up hoping it had all worked out.

And this isn’t just about you. Or a man.

But my dreams and aspirations too.

It’s about everything.

If I wasn’t hoping, expecting, needing or wanting anything, life would be less disappointing.

Maybe then I’d be happy.

But maybe then I wouldn’t be here.

Maybe that’s just the condition of living.

Maybe those are the terms I didn’t know I agreed to when I took my first breath.

And maybe it won’t stop until I take my last.

[s0mewhere-only-we-know]

I wonder…

Do we ever get back the pieces of ourselves we gave to those we thought we loved? Or will I always feel this hollow?

-JR

[s0mewhere-only-we-know]

First day back. Second semester. The kids aren’t here this week, which is good for them. And, frankly, for us. They’ve likely missed us less than we’ve missed them, and we haven’t missed them at all, so expectations remain appropriately low.

I’ve already identified three new white hairs in my beard and approximately ten more in my already thinning hair on my shiny, balding head. I turn 32 in March, though I feel closer to 65. Experience accumulates quickly in certain environments. I assume that qualifies me for something, possibly early retirement, or at least reduced optimism.

As I sit at my desk, calmly reviewing the series of life choices that led me here, I find myself wondering what meaningful moments this semester will provide. Perhaps three more essays confidently titled “Here is a text in the tone you have described”, because critical thinking has declined to the point where even plagiarism now requires supervision.

There’s also a strong chance I’ll encounter another student who invades my personal space, mistaking proximity and posturing for authority. This is usually temporary. I look forward to them asking if I’d like fries with my meal in the near future—assuming they can complete the sentence without external guidance. I remain optimistic in the broadest sense of the word.

One can hope they used the winter break to reflect after a challenging semester and chose to turn over a new leaf. However, as a brilliant fictional woman once said, “Hope breeds eternal misery.” The more time I spend with these creatures, the more I worry about the future of society, while also validating my original assessment of its inevitable decline.

And now here you are, reading my inner monologue, quietly judging my fatigue and cynicism. You may be thinking, “You lack the vocation to be a teacher,” or “It’s your job to prepare them for the world.” That reaction is understandable.

For clarity: it is your job to teach your children discipline, respect, and responsibility. It is my job to teach them the consequences of failing to acquire those qualities. These are different roles. I will not be performing both.

So here’s to a semester full of mystery and wonder. I would be pleased to be proven wrong.

-The Cynical Teacher

[s0mewhere-only-we-know]

Imagine a world thousands of years in the future where a fictional epic has taken on a life of its own, thanks to the misguided belief of certain people who declared, “Yeah, that actually happened.” This belief has led to a division among nations, fueling generations of genocides and wars, which is just wild to think about.

Picture it: the year is 4025, and you have a group of people who call themselves the Edwardians. Opposing them are the Jacobsians, while a third group emerges, composed of individuals who trace their roots to both factions but don’t strictly align with either—they are known as the Renesmmeisians. This unique group idolizes a miracle child, one who has defied all logic, and they revere this child’s mother, whom we could call Pick-me Isabella, since she was certainly no virgin.

In their devotion, they construct altars, hold rituals, and wage wars, all driven by a shared belief in their sacred narrative. Many lives are lost, yet they remain oblivious to the fact that the tale they are fighting over—one filled with vampires and werewolves—was never a real account of history. Instead, they are caught in a conflict over something entirely fictional. How utterly silly that seems, doesn’t it?

Call it blasphemy if you must, but I find myself in admiration of the brilliant writers who have the power to shape nations through their epics. For me, the timeless tales of the Odyssey and the Iliad stand out among all epics, though I respect that everyone has their own preferences.

Anyway… my Twilight Saga marathon is going well if any of you were wondering ❤️

[s0mewhere-only-we-know]

A WORK OF FICTION

I hope that when they come, it’s quick; that when we stare down the barrels of their guns they see resolve in our eyes, not fear; that when the world sees it happen they will be outraged and not silent; that the rest of the world will grant us more kindness than we had for them.

I hope that when future generations tell our stories they’ll talk about how we joked our way to the end and embraced it; that we put up a fight but most importantly that we refused to give up our joy even while in chains; even when they took everything.

I hope that those of us who make it refuse to let it happen again and do not become so blinded by the trauma that not only are we willing to let history repeat itself but that we allowed it to make us the tyrants.

I hope that the next generation and the ones after that remember that it wasn’t just tragic but that it was also beautiful; that we found strength in our community when half of our country turned on us; that we sang and wrote and painted and marched and protested and finally smiled at the sight of their guns upon our temples and we never gave them the satisfaction of seeing how afraid we were; not just for ourselves but for the people we loved and would be leaving behind. For the ones who didn’t get to just die but also had to endure.

These words, a work of fiction, a dystopian nightmare we will never have to see come to life, I hope.

Good Night world.

[s0mewhere-only-we-know]

What?

I feel like I’m not meeting expectations

Like all I do is cause you deep frustrations

I feel like what I give is not enough

I feel like giving up without a thought

Time keeps going by, it keeps on ticking

My head is full of thoughts, I keep on thinking

But all I want to do is rest and sleep

With nothing but my memories to keep.

- @s0mewhere-only-we-know

[s0mewhere-only-we-know]

Intrusive Thoughts

Walking down the streets of N.Y.C.

Intrusive thoughts just keep on haunting me

Maybe tripping on the subway as the N approaches nearer

Maybe crossing every street without safety to consider

Maybe hoping someone snaps and takes me with them

Maybe jumping off a building without thinking

Maybe finding myself on the wrong side of a knife

Maybe thinking I’m not good enough to live this life

- @s0mewhere-only-we-know

[s0mewhere-only-we-know]

The city

The city is magic

The city is stars

The city won’t care about who you are

The city is feeling

The city is dreaming

The city won’t care about what you believe in

The city is living

The city is numb

The city won’t care about where you’re from

The city is wonder

The city is tough

The city won’t care about who you love

The city was good

The city was bad

The city believed in the potential I had

The city is crowded

The city is lonely

The city won’t care about how it destroyed me

The city was great

But I wasn’t ready

I left in the night with my heart feeling heavy

- @s0mewhere-only-we-know

[s0mewhere-only-we-know]

Broken Trust

I broke your trust, I checked your phone

I wish I had found nothing.

Pictures proved you broke us first.

Who’d thought you’d be so cunning?

I broke your trust, our bed feels cold.

I wish I had not done it.

I wish for blissful ignorance.

I wish I had not seen a thing.

I broke your trust, what happens next?

I know I won’t confront you.

I feel at fault for your mistakes.

Like it’s my fault you strayed away.

You broke my trust, you could have left

Only one, basic, rule we stressed.

If we thought that we would cheat,

We’d respect each other… enough to leave.

- @s0mewhere-only-we-know

[s0mewhere-only-we-know]

It’s a bad day

Today is a bad day.

He said to himself.

He wanted to post it ,

For someone to help.

He thought for a second,

What’ll this do?

It’s not gonna help me.

And neither can you.

He posted it anyway.

- @s0mewhere-only-we-know

[s0mewhere-only-we-know]

...

And for a moment as I slept;

I thought of you and wished for death.

- @s0mewhere-only-we-know

[s0mewhere-only-we-know]

Self Centered

So I stopped and looked around,

At the world as it burned down.

And still I was like,

what about me?

- @s0mewhere-only-we-know

[s0mewhere-only-we-know]

My Friend the Darkness

-

Let the darkness come again.

She’s familiar, she’s my friend.

No sense of purpose or direction.

My friend the darkness, she remembers.

-

And she sticks around, my friend

She’ll probably be here till the end.

And I push and push to no avail.

My friend, the darkness she prevails.

-

Alone or lonely, does it matter?

She’ll always be here, from what I gather.

I’ve made my peace, I know she’s stronger.

I will not struggle any longer.

[s0mewhere-only-we-know]

Book of Shadows #2

Protection

-

Shield us now from the unseen.

Help us hide, so they can’t see.

Where we stand will not be found.

They will not even hear a sound.

In this place we’re safe from harm.

Keep us safe here with this charm.

- @s0mewhere-only-we-know

[s0mewhere-only-we-know]

Book of Shadows #1

Premonition: The Sight

-

Good or evil, who decides?

Spirits from the other side.

In times of darkness and dismay,

Help me find a hopeful way.

In this time of deeply sorrow,

Today I’ll see, my path tomorrow.

- @s0mewhere-only-we-know

[s0mewhere-only-we-know]

I WANT MY LIFE TO MATTER.

I’m not old enough to feel old, but I do.

I feel like time is running out. Don’t you?

I’ve wasted so much time on things that do not matter.

Like, am I getting skinny or am I getting fatter?

Like, how many likes did my last post get?

Like, do the people who surround me like me yet?

-

In all fairness it’s a sign of social declination,

That I and most subscribe to in recent generations.

Im not one to judge, it’s just an observation.

But that’s beside the point in this little conversation.

-

All I’m trying to say is I’ve done nothing with my time,

And life is slipping through my fingers as I drink this glass of wine.

I want it all to change; I want my life to matter!

These are honest words, not insignificant chatter.

- @s0mewhere-only-we-know

[s0mewhere-only-we-know]

Me, dating.

It fades away, the pain, with time

But the scars, they linger, those are mine

I do this to myself, every. single. time.

-

I meet them once, that’s all I takes.

I offer up my heart to break.

Why, oh, why is it so easy,

For them to walk away?

-

I pour my soul. I fall so fast.

I let them know about my past.

I’m honest, open, kind and caring.

My heart exposed, it hurts, it’s tearing.

-

They pretend to care, they’re nice, they listen.

But then they pull away, get distant.

I don’t understand what’s wrong.

It must be me, something I’ve done.

-

It happened once, okay that’s fine.

The second time I drowned in wine.

The third time, it destroyed me.

And I lost my will to fight.

- @s0mewhere-only-we-know