I know it has been even loooooonger since I’ve last posted, but I am back again. I have decided that I will continue this blog the only way I’ve really ever known how to: posting my thoughts.
Tracy Chapman + Michael Jackson = The Weeknd
I guess we all boast influences from one source or the next, but I’ve (lately) never come to realize one so specifically precise as this………….and I liiiiiik…uh………..loooooooooove it. And I love it.
Truth is, I don’t think life has to be figured out, but exploration simply feels necessary in order to keep us all afloat. Would you rather pray for the turbulent winds to brush your raft along, or would you rather sail in silence for fear of movement? Would you loooove it?
As per the previous post, I’m really getting into the spirit of Autumn right about now. Jazz club affair. Not too dark, not too bright, but just right. Halloween seems to be the “holiday” that embodies that feeling like no other ‘cuz folks legitmately want to be spooked, and yet, wanna see the smiling faces of the babies who trot around from house to house, decked out in the latest in Tigger n’ Pooh costume wear. “Tick or tweeeeeeeeeeeeeet”
October, may you rock me like a hurricane.
Autumn leaves and the space between, mind me, so entertain.
Approaching cold, you know the drill.
Dying heat, almost gone, but so is the thrill.
“I would at times feel that learning to read had been a curse rather than a blessing. It had given me a view of my wretched condition, without the remedy. It opened my eyes to the horrible pit, but to no ladder upon which to get out. In moments of agony, I envied my fellow‐slaves for their stupidity. I have often wished myself a beast. I preferred the condition of the meanest reptile to my own. Anything, no matter what, to get rid of thinking! It was this everlasting thinking of my condition that tormented me. There was no getting rid of it. It was pressed upon me by every object within sight or hearing, animate or inanimate.”
-Mr. Frederick Douglass
…starting to echo some of his sentiments, as of late.
How fine is hell, exactly?
Style is quite the thing, ain’t it? I mean, you get the chance to say what you want about yourself without saying a word; few other instances in life exist like this. Lately, life seems to be a gentle give-and-pull of whether or not I will actually accept this fact. To be noticed? To be covert? To not give the slightest care at all? It is all in the beauty of having options, I suppose. I look forward to talking more about this in future posts.
Son of beast,
or man’s best friend?
If I leave you to be judge,
will the story ever end?
savor an apple.
These woods are all too clear.
Dripping stone raindrops,
hearken winter’s slumbering ear.
Spring upon human’s feats,
until the grass greets a deer.
Man grips rotten nature,
thinks it has no chance.
Grizzly chuckles at this sight,
says, “well, that’s no romance.”
It’s the price that you see,
You cannot get it out of me.
From the factionless freedoms,
Who are they to think I’m numb.
It’s everyday how we say,
I’m gonna do it my way.
Your undecided little choice,
Prosperity provides a voice.
I can admire your wit.
At this point, I’d be totally fine with reducing all of my possessions (not much to begin with) down to strictly literature. Keeping myself fed, physically active, and mentally engaged. What more does a person really need? I’m down with this.