Olga's Poetry & Thoughts

I am obsessed with life, and with finding the meaning of it all. This is why I adore poetry and literature. Certain philosophical quotes stick in my psyche and I can fish them out whenever I feel like I am drowning in my uncertainties. It is also why I love music. Certain songs, lyrics, instruments, and even sounds whisk me back to different places, different people and times in my life. Anytime I want to escape the present, I can turn on the stereo. But poetry, philosophy and music are not the meaning of life. It is just an interpretation. In fact, the older I get foggier the meaning of life becomes. When I was little, I had no critical thinking skills. Most kids do not. We swallow up everything we are told by the authorities towering over us (teachers, parents) like candies. The first time I learned about "heaven" was in the fifth grade, in Catholic School. My teacher taught religion class every afternoon, and we discussed what happens when we die: we go to the pearly gat

I am so tired of seeing the same person in the mirror every day Roof over my head? Check. Water and food? Check. Family? Check. Healthy? Check. Stable boyfriend? Check. Check. Check. Check. Why does it not seem like enough... It is because I am an angsty twenty-something See, we were raised during an interesting time when flip phones were a luxury in the eighth grade And MSN Messenger was the way to communicate Now, do people even communicate? There was a time when jobs were a tad easier to find Now we sit in a lukewarm pool of our depression and sulk over the youth unemployment rate We believe in nothing, no god to save us, no future for the earth's creatures and plants We just wait for the sun to devour our planet and for the oceans to flood all the major cities like it does in the movies, a modern day tale of Noah We are pessimists, us twenty-somethings What do we believe in? We don't believe in love Love is oppression! Love does not comply with our overly

I have two lovers named Chaos and Joe One is predictable and the other's not so Chaos is wild, with a scraggly old beard Joe has fetishes that seem a bit weird Chaos has issues and takes pills of all sorts Joe likes the usual: a fine beer and sports Chaos makes me feel like one big mess While Joe makes me pitiful and depressed They still love me, sending me flowers and cake Hoping I'll be in their beds when I awake Alas, I can only exist in one place in time With Chaos and vodka, or Joe and red wine Will Cupid please strike one heart of the two To save me from this sad pit of blues? Joe, oh Joe, I see us marrying one day I see us on rocking chairs with hair all grey Chaos, dear love, I see adventures await That will never land me in Heaven's pearly gates Sometimes I want to watch the sunset with Joe Other times I want Chaos curled up at my toes We want it all: a chaotic stability A paradoxical, magnetic indivisibility We want the Chaos that life throws