We should go to poetry night

This is something that I have been working on. I like the idea, but it is a bit raw and disorganized. It is basically a rant. I just want it here in case I ever get around to revising it. I kind of went back to old bad habits at the end.

"We should go to poetry night",
I message my friend.
Though, what I really mean,
Is that I need to get to a microphone as soon as humanly possible.

Because...
If I projectile vomit these feelings,
Like those lovely Thursday nights in college,
Maybe, just maybe,
They won't poison me.

[This condition is hereditary.
I saw my grandmother,
Clutch at past transgressions,
Like they were Dixie cups of hope,
In the desert of her waning moments.]

Here we go -

First, I don't "hate" my boss,
I hate the entire fucking institution.
Second, I'm not sad that I was dumped,
I'm really terrified I'll end up alone.
Third, I'm not sure if age is making me cynical,
or if my moments of clarity reveal the shitshow of our world.

The stock market is Pokemon cards for adults.
Disney sells beautiful lies and irrational expectations.
Truth is entirely subjective.
Past success means nothing.
And the purpose of life...is, get this, living.

(Mind Explosion)

There is no universal purpose,
It's a goddamn choose your own adventure:

Some want to get to heaven,
Some just want the attention,
Some do it for art,
Others have bleeding hearts,
And want to save humanity from itself.
I just want to be happy with my self.