It used to be about the lights. The shops. Yellow death cars chasing you down. These things remain. I've spent the year in the richest city lying down with poverty. When you share your bed with penniless dreamers...something changes. Some quiet noise in you becomes audible. Then loud. Not loud like you cannot sleep but loud like you should not sleep. Someone pressed blend inside your head so you become mixed. The beauty of what everyone sees and what really truly is becomes evident. And so you are without excuses any more. (I still reach for them everyday.)I remind myself that this coffee shop is just a place I go. It's not apart of me. I say this because I cannot take it with me. I detach myself. An art in which I am fully accustomed to and improve on daily. Detachment. To move on from what has been to what will be. This element of me is as complicated as love itself. I suppose. Suppose. Supposing. I could just say empty words like love and miss. I choose. chose. Choosing. To express the drippings of how I feel. What I feel.
We are an obligatory nation. Say amen after you pray. Say thank you. Say nice things to relatives that you don't like. We say the expected.
I frequently want to be graphic(like a novel). Uncensored(like my mind). I unfortunately am obliged to obey the lines that have been drawn for me(by me). Simply simple. What a simpleton(can I change?).
I am a rare bird. Who chooses to surround herself with other colorful creations. I avoid the common loon.
There is nothing wrong with being the common loon. They just become confused by my(our) musings. So we are separate, no better than one another, just different. Just created apart in the same atmosphere.
It is I the unmasked caper who gets black listed. Yet I'm ok with any list I may end up on.
There are more important lists than the ones we create.
