Something Autobiographical
by Ruth Nineke

Available soon on Amazon

There Is No Forever

There is no forever.

I think of when I “fell in love” with Mark,
And got in trouble for being drunk
And got in trouble for being late to brunch.
I think of my pride.
And when I’d first given my notice.
And how Mark cornered me later and I cried. 
And I knew it wasn’t because of my school girl crush. 
But because I was in a terrible place, emotionally and mentally. 
And because I knew I could do better. 
And because I wanted more control over my job. 
And I knew it’d take forever before they let me bartend. 
And I knew I was giving good work. 
And I knew if I wasn’t getting what I wanted
That I didn’t have the patience to play by their rules. 
Because waiting forever meant probably never. 
And that that idea was what made me go there to begin with. 
And that I did make more money there
And that I went on to make more at the next job. 
And I think of how my pride propels me
Onward and upward and maybe to a trough or two. 
But I never stay anywhere. 
Because I’m so proud. 
So convinced something better is possible.
And I rationalize so well
That I don’t need to seek out permanence. 
Because nothing is permanent. 
What is forever? 
Can you draw it? 
Can you picture it? 
In your mind’s eyes?
Would you know it if you met it late one summer night? 
Across a bar? 
Or inside a loft? 
Or at a deli?  
Can you comprehend it? 
Can you describe something
With finite language?
If you can’t prove forever
And I can’t prove God
Then either neither exists or both are true. 
Forever for me is at most
A new Kings of Leon song.
Or Arctic Monkeys
Or Bachman Turner Overdrive deep cut
As yet unheard-of to me
But which I’ll play on repeat for two weeks
Until something else grips me. 
And Forever is that.
Those two weeks where my mind is consumed. 
Forever is the fleeting cycle of consumption.
And so long as it is
It’s greater than the depression of knowing there really isn’t a point.
And nothing you do matters
Because there is no forever
And sometimes anyway, depression is comforting, and familiar.
Except, remember there’s always something better. 




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