Rain race, brake lights, flood fights on the freeway, Phone tones, blown zones, bad news every three-way, Site guys, tight eyes, everybody’s stressed stiff, Meanwhile I’m just trying not to mentally deadlift. Gym bags, swim tags, dance shoes by the door, Lisa doing laps while I’m trapped in one more, “Quick call, won’t long” — famous last phrase, Three hours later still stuck in the same haze. Inbox breeding like gremlins after midnight, Teams pings, ringtone symphonies, fist-tight, One bloke melting ‘cause a meeting moved ten, Mate I’ve had six emergencies since ten past ten. Cool calm collected? Correct-ish maybe, But one more voice note might medically break me, Zen breaths, clenched teeth, “all good” on the surface, Internally buffering like Windows in a circus. Flood roads, mud flows, wind blows sideways, Trying to keep centred in a stress test mind maze, One eye on defects, one eye on debt, One eye on the clock thinking “not home yet.” And everybody’s got a problem they project, Ego overload with emotional neglect, I can help heaps but here’s the hard truth, I can’t carry your nervous breakdown too. Because if I lose it and you lose it too, Then who the hell steering this sinking canoe? Two dudes too fused in a doom-loop stew, That ain’t teamwork mate, that’s trauma fondue. So I joke-jab laugh while the roof caves in, Humour’s my hammer when the screws get thin, Half monk, half manager, caffeine commander, Meditating mentally mid-calendar disaster. Deep breaths, reset, re-centre the room, Not every raised voice needs verbal kaboom, Some people panic, some posture, some bark, Some throw sparks just ‘cause they’re scared in the dark. And truth be told I get close to the edge, Stress stretched thin like a fraying bridge ledge, Still stand steady when the pressure pile peaks, Even when my soul screams “bro… take a week.” But tomorrow morning I’ll still lace boots, Still chase goals through the chaos and loops, Still crack jokes while the storm clouds spin, ‘Cause losing my mind won’t magically win. So if you see me smiling through the cyclone spin, Just know that grin’s got survival stitched in, Built from pressure, humour, hustle and scars, Trying to stay human while juggling Mars.
