uncertainty

outside my window is a train wreck of emotions. bodies floating. nothing close to selfless intentions. i can see what everything has done to my people. or better yet what my people have done to themselves. traffic jams holding machines responsible for lost souls. when will accountability be the first word our children speak? and what of my rituals... lonely, long dark nights stretching limbs for safety. watching my back because its only me. I'm stuck in a vault. defense mechanism that no one else will understand but you. when turning the cheek is fashionable like wearing a different pair of shoes. looking away is picture perfect... a subtle way of saying hello. and moving forward takes little effort... just planting one foot in front of the other. This is the part of life that we too often forget to accept: uncertainty. Fluidity of accepting me as i am and moving according to who you will always be. Yet it feels like my conscience wont allow movement without knowing. I just wish that you, I, we one day will allow all the light of being in the dark to illuminate our moments. To eliminate our worries. So that i can be on my way, within my realms of safety and you... be content within your blanket of consistency. Then our people will be free... if we just except uncertainty. No one will be let down by the present.

#2

Did you know that on average, most arabic linguistics make a minimum of 42k a year in the United States? Its funny how a job studying language, translating and deciphering a language of our (the U.S) self proclaimed "enemy,turned new friend" seems to pay decent. If only the world saw this as a joint exploration, venturing to uncover cultural barriers rather than decoding encrypted manuscripts. An income and a diversion. I see it as an outlet. A way to connect with him. Since he said "our minds are translators for our souls" what does my soul say when I can translate his heart. Transcribe conversations, converting symbols into means of expression, simple phrases left unsaid. Who is to say I will ever need to understand arabic. Why, when I can understand his soul. What's. The purpose of any of language, when my salary is counted in good mornings?

inspirational rant....

My memories tease the emotions of current and past events,destroying the structure of its natural flow. Its destination has changed drastically. My soul has been inverted. And for once I can finally see myself for its truth. Never again will dams misguide my waters. Life's bumpers can only be valued through nature. Artificial routes ultimately lead back to me. Self hate doesn't lurk in my shadows.


(#connect)

Life Without Desire

Separating yourself from humanity is a tricky topic. Should it even be done? Can man survive without human interaction. Companionship, friendship, partnership, trade, intimacy, superiority, who will one compete against if there is no one else around?? Can Darwinism exist fully if man has no competitor?

I wonder if the monks crave for companionship? Is the purpose of their existence to simply appreciate the present....and if they do crave or have desire: then what? Is it an internal signal for prayer, meditation, reflection, re evaluation, or simply a human characteristic that should not be fought. Can we fight our urges?

Is the emotion of desire the downfall of us as a people? Are we craving too many of the wrong things? What are the wrong things? Do we reach for external more than internal....how do we cure ourselves of this itch! Or do we except it as is? Is it even curable or merely "negative" at all?

Some people interchange need with please, chasing greed, off that burning fire. But what is life like without desire? Does it exist at all? Even in the simplest forms want is human nature.. Or have we just told ourselves such so many times?
I cannot have favorites without cravings, picking out an outfit for context and emotion, or doing something to get attention.

What if we all just went with the flow of things. But what is the flow of things? What does it really mean? Would I just wear the first thing I see, eat the first piece of meat, or just do according to what happens next?

What happens to those misunderstood and special by default. Those with abilities that didn't come from desire. The people who's profound abilities still survived the realm of individualism. Being alone has never cost an artist his work, for simply it has increased their craft. Sometimes we have remarkable abilities we never asked for or desired,yet everyone expects us to utilize. What of the moments we don't ask for....how do they equate to those we make on mental wish lists to gods?

How can all our daily actions change at the same time? What will the world become? What is change without desire, where does the spark of motivation come from? When we nurture our crafts and let things flow naturally. What happens then? Will art be forever seen in a different light without desire for selfish perception. All things would then be beautiful then, correct?

Where do you find balance....if the scale is yourself? Weighing your mental process on the options of today being a forever than never stops. If we all just went with the wind... Everyday would be a new experience. Are we simply to afraid to let go? And fly? Or has desire and lust reeled us in....


My homie Cory...aka @Coreman2200 responded to these questions with a blog post of his own... please read and embrace the concept of thought...

.......

Sometimes, I just want to be a kid again. Slowly I close my eyes, making wishes on shooting stars again. Awakening to a brighter day just through innocence. The sweet hellos and goodbyes that meant nothing, since I could conceptualize time. I just thought everyone would return. And that everyone loved the same way. Isn't love meant to be unconditional anyways?

Spider Web of Seconds

With every letter I store our thoughts into file cabinets.
Mental notes of to do lists and accomplishments
Mutual exchange of silence through noise
My soul is speaking tongues.
You say everything with the blink of an eye.
Yet merely nothing with the lick of your lips.
Mute. We. Us.
Your presence echoes more.
My senses are on alarm.
Goose bumps from the inside out.
Let me learn you.
Store you next to favorites.
Name starred with asterisks.
Keep you book marked, close to nothings but everythings.
The overlapping crossing point of infinity,
Or simply the space between.
Simplicity of you next to me. still.
I have created a folder for my poems
I have yet to write bout you.
Little do you know.
Karma encrypted.
A treasure chest.
Pierced by memories
Yet lived.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

"Intro"

You're a chameleon

Manipulating space within time

Creating infinities out of nothing

The never ending cycle of continuum

A symbol on consistency in raw form

The existence of a beginning that once was the last of something

Union of polar opposites that highlight both greatness and failure within shadows and spotlights

The circular motion of the washer machine and how it doesn't measure correctly with the volume of the matching dryer

I now must dry two loads of alphabets. Tumble low,for fear of ripping apart phrases, egos, and pride.

A paradox of two same things, that look different depending on the angle of light. Perception never exists without secret vision.

We all are super heroes for saving substance. Putting logic and knowledge to work. If only we realized this more.

Are words wouldn't be so jumbled within our emotions. And our lifestyles would match our diction.

Poetry is just something that exist outside of every rule and equation. A formula of freedom design for creation.

It simply starts from strokes of within.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry