A Week of Poetry, Pressure, and Pennies

I never realized how fast bills could pile up — until I bought a car. We barely drive it. Both my partner and I work from home, and the longest it’s moved recently is from one side of the street to the other for street cleaning. And yet, the expenses? Endless. It’s like the car just sits there radiating financial stress. Insurance, maintenance, registration, mystery fees that sound made up — they all add up, and quickly.

Lately, it feels like everything is piling up. Not just bills, but life. You know the kind of heavy mental clutter: work tasks, home errands, texts you forgot to respond to, and that creeping feeling that you’re always behind on something. It leaves very little brain-space for creativity, which sucks, especially when you're trying to be a writer.

You ever notice how writing flows like a river when you're doing it just for yourself? But the second you sit down with a purpose — a deadline, a target word count, or (god forbid) the hope of earning a few cents online — everything freezes up. Inspiration vanishes. Words turn into cement blocks.

Yeah, that’s me right now. I’ve got two articles in progress, and I keep staring at them like they’re in a different language. The motivation has just... evaporated. Has this been happening for the last three months? Yep. Do I go through this every year and forget about it? Also yes.

Then, yesterday, my good writing pal James U. Rizzi dropped into my DMs with a gift from the poetic heavens — some prompts he picked up from a “Poetry Walk” he attended. First of all: Poetry Walk?? That’s a thing? That’s so cool. I wish I could've joined, but he lives in another country and, well, international travel isn’t exactly in the budget right now. Thanks, gas prices.

Anyway, he shared a prompt with me. We decided to do a timed speed-write. Ten minutes on the clock. Go. I finished in eight. And not to brag (okay, maybe a little), but it felt good to write like that — fast, messy, instinctual. That’s my favorite kind of writing: no drafts, no overthinking, just pure word vomit. I can’t stand the slow perfectionist process of editing. I want to write like I eat popcorn during a binge-watch session: quick and fully immersed.

That one little poetry session — let’s call it a spit session (gross, but also accurate) — reminded me why I love writing in the first place. It’s not about being perfect. It’s about doing it. So now I’m thinking, maybe that’s the vibe I need this week. A little poetry every day. Not for money. Not for perfection. Just for momentum.

But hey — if a few pennies roll in from it? I’ll take them. Pennies help. Especially right now. Expenses are coming in hot and heavy, and I’m trying to set my family up the best I can. I also started karate again recently (which deserves its own post, if I can ever focus long enough to write it), and surprise: karate gear isn’t cheap. So yeah, if my poetry hustle helps me afford some sparring gloves, I’m not complaining.

So, I googled “daily poetry prompts” and landed on a post with 365 of them. One for every day of the year. Today’s caught my attention right away. It's weird. It’s nerdy. It’s emotional in disguise. In short: it’s perfect.

June 23 Prompt: “Crystallography of Secrets”
Create a scientific study of how secrets form different crystal structures based on their nature. Include classification system and growth conditions. Use geological terminology to describe emotional states. Consider how secrets change under pressure. End with breaking open a fully formed secret crystal.

Yes. THIS. This is the weird brain-stretching prompt I didn’t know I needed.

So that’s the plan. A week of poems. A week of word-vomit healing. A week of seeing if I can make something beautiful from the burnout. Feel free to join me, read along, or cheer from the sidelines. I could use the accountability — and maybe a few poetic karate kicks to get through it.

Let’s see what happens when you stop trying to force the perfect words… and just write.