Notice of absence from Tristan Robert Lange
Life is full of seasons. This is a season of transition for me, where I will be moving with my family to a new location. As such, with much logistics to consider, I am doing my best to keep up. Please know if I accidentally don't respond, it is not because I am ghosting or becoming distant. Once things settle after the move, I am sure life will return to some normalcy. In the meantime, and always:
Read 👓, Write ✍️, Rise 🌅, Realize 🤯.
Tristan 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Life is full of seasons. This is a season of transition for me, where I will be moving with my family to a new location. As such, with much logistics to consider, I am doing my best to keep up. Please know if I accidentally don't respond, it is not because I am ghosting or becoming distant. Once things settle after the move, I am sure life will return to some normalcy. In the meantime, and always:
Read 👓, Write ✍️, Rise 🌅, Realize 🤯.
Tristan 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
“Hey there, how is it with your soul?”
They used to ask— no longer care to know.
To process this shit it would take a bowl;
In the cloud of smoke I might lose where to go,
Which might as well be their whole goal,
Still better positioned to think and show,
That whoever THEY are, this is how I roll.
© 2026 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
First published on tristanrobertlange.com, May 8 2026.
Tittu
-
Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: May 8th, 2026 08:15
- Comment from author about the poem: Part of the Truth, Applied collection.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 17
- Users favorite of this poem: Paul Bell, Salvia.S
- In collections: Truth, Applied.
Offline)
Comments5
In trickery and gluggery, we hear the sound, and ask 'How are you Popeye?' He replies. 'I yam'..... lol
Orchi, I swear the older I get the more “I yam” feels like a complete emotional status update 😂 Somewhere between exhaustion, smoke clouds, and existential soup…there sits Popeye in quiet glugged enlightenment. Always appreciate the laugh, my friend. 🪑🚬🕯️🙏
When they need you, you're tops.
When they don't, you're history.
They'll find us in records collecting dust.
Paul, there’s a bitter truth in that…honestly it immediately reminded me of the line from Marilyn Manson's song, Dope Show: “They love you when you’re on all the covers…when you’re not then they love another.” It really is the same hard observation about usefulness, attention, and how quickly people move on. Deeply felt, my friend. 🪑🚬🕯️🙏
You never know what to expect with people one day friend the next unknown. Well written my friend
Soren, you really nailed one of the core tensions underneath this piece…that strange shift where someone can feel deeply present one moment and unreachable the next. It can leave a person questioning all sorts of things. Truly appreciate your words and your presence here, my friend. 🪑🚬🕯️🙏
Tristan my friend it is people like you that make it all worth while. You are most welcome
They stopped asking, so you asked yourself. The bowl, the cloud, the lost direction- you name it all without flinching. Then that turn - " Still better positioned to think and show. " You're not a victim here. You're a witness. "This is how i roll" isn't surrender. It's sovereignty. Nicely written dearest Tittu ❤️ a fave 🌹
Salvia, this really means a lot to me…especially the distinction you made between victimhood and witness. That was very much part of the tension underneath the piece. And I am always questioning myself to make sure I am not slipping into victimhood…so I am genuinely glad you felt the distinction. This is not surrender…not defeat…just owning the reality of the thing honestly. Deeply grateful for this, dearest friend. 🪑🚬🕯️🙏
This feels painfully real — like someone trying to stay strong while quietly drowning in disappointment and detachment.
Good write
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.