I'm Jenny Curran and Forrest Gump at the same time

When I come to Substack, I find it a great place. But lately, I’m burnt out. I can only write one poem per week if I’m happy. To get my poetry collection file together took me a couple of months, and until I find home for it, might be very long.

I am not someone with a big stamina. I do my dayjob and then I’m broken, getting flus and feeling numb.

I’ve never been happy with the social system and work life. I’ve never enjoyed working. Office jobs always went like I’m fired, they saying, “You can manage writing and visuals well, but when it comes to communication, you’re socially awkward and can’t present anything well.” I’ve never done any office job longly. Now, I’m a housemaid, mostly a cleaner.

I read Forrest Gump book. I was in love with the movie. Both stories are touching. Deep down, I feel like Forrest Gump about life. My life, too, has been so bumpy. When I’ve told people, they hardly believed.

There’s sadness about a worker’s life. A broken-down, oppressed spirit serving to pay the rent, otherwise homeless. A potential wasted by a heavy life and strange occurances. And in the end, we’ve all just served to the lords by paying taxes, becoming disabled because of a heavy work, fighting in wars etc. Where’s freedom?

I guess, that’s why I write about Freedom. The collection I’ve put together will be about Freedom, St. Freedom, every single poem.

I still dream and hope for some true Freedom in my life. I mean, finding my place to belong, not feeling enslaved and exhausted. I find it in poetry, yet, there’s also reality.

I’ve known Jenny Currans in my life. I’ve been her, too. And then again, also Forrest Gump. I can tell one for sure - the most unawaited does happen for sure. Tell me about me ten years ago, I’d never believe.

This is my list of poems in order. I’ve taped them to my table, so after work I can stand there, thinking about. An idea strikes, I edit something. I’ve even got ideas for visuals, which has something to do with what I’ve been through.

Some of poems already have been published. Two years ago I would not believe that me, a loser, would make it to the magazines. But I did. And I’ll be even in an anthology. Soon, I’ll have my shelf at home showcasing my publications. I should be happy, yet, I am so tired. Like most of us.

Thank you for reading, it wasn’t all easy for me to write today. But I finished Forrest Gump and felt very emotional. Does someone else here love the book, or the movie? Which one you prefer?