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If You Get Hurt Then We Come Back Home…

I think someone should nominate me for uncle of the year. My niece Elexis will vouch for that, at least she told me that I was the best ever yesterday evening when we got back home.

After work I picked her up at the babysitter’s, we drove by the schools in Sells and she asked about the playgrounds. Uncle, how do you get in there?

I knew what she was asking about but we had to drive home. E-girl is probably going to start school next year, I know she’s ready. Pretty soon you’ll be in school and you can get in there. I want to swing.

We talk all the way home…

If your Dad says it’s ok then we can go to the playground in Coldfields but we need to ask him, I’ll text him. The text goes out and seconds later Did he answer. 

The sun goes down and we return home twice. Not enough time in the day for this kind of fun. We swang the remaining day away, it was spectacular and no one even cried. Not even me.

storiesfrommystomach

Please Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood

Greatness the genius needs to be somewhat crazy….

I guess this post can be confusing because I’m not quite sure if I can even justify through my own words what I’m truly saying. It’s a constant beautiful battle within trying to express the inner being. The soul, my energy, the thing inside waiting to be projected through language and movements. The great white mystery not here to stay.

I think this post should be taken with a grain of salt because you need to be some kind of crazy to tap into what the soul wants and needs. The artist Van Gogh did some amazing paintings over time, remembered as being the guy who cut off some his ear. The ear thing has a crazy dark feel to it and it might not even be a dark feel but through judgement it gets placed there. I guess what is normal makes something like slicing your ear so daring and crazy. After darkness is light and the job of the artist is to capture that grand transition.

Everything is good and bad both at the same time.

Poetic living is possible yet having the ability to channel that inner greatness may require you to think outside the box and even be unorthodox to other. I guess I rather be crazy then not trying to be sane and unable to feel the ability to create art. We have complex minds that will need to survive a universe unknown for the sake of humanity. If not for yourself then who?

 

 

Up Against The Wind

You can plan a pretty picnic, but you can’t predict the weather

-Andre 3000

The weekends are precious and the time moves at another pace for two days straight, then it’s up. I depend on my friends for counseling, they can be the unofficial therapist I go and see for clarity. The weekends are the therapy, I need to deal with my own struggles. I think there’s always the option of getting better and improving at your craft. Although there can be down times or obstacles that cause you to be lost in your thoughts. The mind becomes full and having good friends to talk with makes it more easier to deal with what you got cooking in that noodle of your.

I am me and yet I lose touch of myself when I’m not projecting these thoughts building in my head. The mind is a forest.

My friend Benjamin who lives in the next village is my brother from another mother. We been homies since high school, and recently we started making beats for a hip-hop project. We’ve always played music together too, but recently we started to play basketball at the playground in Cold Fields. A few weekends ago we got the bright idea of playing some ball in the night. Ben brought a flood light and that lit up the court. We really never played basketball together so it was something new to experience. Of course I play all the time but Benjamin brings his own flare to the game.

I notice that basketball is the answer for all these things circling in my mental. We go shoot around this afternoon in the village.

Before we play 21 there is discussion that gets passed around. I blame the wind for my free throws not going in. Great day playing basketball and talking with Ben about life does bring brightness to the court of everything.

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