37,000 miles.....

I swore I knew the way... lost is about 37,000 miles back. Some pearls along the way I've learned though have stuck. People that don't hold the door for you, are lost, scared & are uncertain of how to live in love. Seems deep for doors, but that's the short cut. People who treat as if you don't exist and aren't worth minimal effort, will never consider you worth the real effort; even if at one time they manipulated you into thinking otherwise. Love is shown, not spoken. Lies should be non existent, as they make it easier to pave the way for growth in their numbers. A person that is hurt or in pain, regardless of it's origin, does not deserve anger. Real love is going above and beyond to ensure that the others heart is safe and happy, more importantly, before your own. If a person does not RSVP to the invitation of your life in it's entirety, stop acquiescing to theirs. If you are feeling more worthless than when you entered into a person's life after some time, you've let someone else control your destiny. A person that feels they are on the back burner, most likely are. If confusion is making more of an appearance than clarity, make space. If you are loving too much & its not being reciprocated, you're not weak or foolish; you've just remembered who you are, what you're worth & that there is one person who will match you in that effort. People who neglect human angels are still sorting themselves out or participating in a comfortable sickness. People who love you will let you know everyday. People who don't, won't know they fucked up until you're gone; but they will know it everyday from then on. Being decent hasn't lost all of it's matter, but very few care to carry it on. Surround yourself with those people. They will carry you when the sickness from others creeps in. Know that whatever you have become "ok" with; you deserve better. People who don't care will make it very obvious that they don't. Do not try to save these folks, they want zero help. Make yourself a priority, because no one else will. The people that do, keep em close; this is your tribe. Tribe less people have no lines that attach to love, if they deny this lesson; it is on them. Loving a person that doesn't love you is an exquisite kind of pain, avoid it when you can. If it happens, learn from it and don't let the stain seep in. It most likely had nothing to do with you. It is becoming more and more common to be crucified for being fearless in decency, take your licks and come on down. If you can still walk, walk. Walk until you can't see them anymore but you've forgiven them along the way. Everyone has an obligation to self peace. Don't allow others to steward that right in front of you. One can only sustain so many broken things. Make it less. Make you more.

Always the same shit.

Selling it again. All over the neighborhood. Making it seem worth while. Same story. Same falsehood. Same stickiness prevailing in all the usual spots. What, why and how will this find a non winding road? Blown up again over the ruse that always has to be ok for the magic mountain but not the rest. Hazing a horrific possibility is the worst thing one could entertain. It seems to make an appearance quite often. Let's see, we'll see, they all see............... but me.

LG, MK, LG, AP, TR, JI, NP, WR, SR.

Even though the bones were getting sharper, the skin getting longer and the shards getting taller, she desperately wanted the home made family, the large fire that she stoked for the small circle that fueled her for what had seemed like lifetimes to know that she would never take them for granted & hadn't. They had held her up, wiped away the sheets of sad that were only kept at bay by THEM, hugged her when others were afraid to speak to her, gave her a purpose and a reason. A reason to...... She would die for them, and maybe was; either way she wanted them to know that they were the ones. The ones that would be forever. This time and every time. Thank you.

Those Stickers Hurt...

Up. Down. Turned. Examined. Under intense observation, scrutiny morphs into a judgement posing as concern or curiosity; depending on the depth of woods said "observer" is stalking. The haze that this imagined projected dream produces is as freeing as it is lugubrious. I don't know what it is that you think you lost that you will reclaim in me. I am more hidden than you. It's a series of shards. A waning sleep that wants nothing more than secret light nestled in gray days to last. Not with you, but the one that's there to stay. That was never you and certainly the expectation that you house for its potential now, is futile. The best part, is that I never have to feel that static, anxious discord again. Not in this life. Still water in the cactus you emotionally devastating fascist.

If they wanna be real about it, they'll bring you the ocean.

On top of a roof top under an electrified sky that rumbled with the thrill of what was previously thought to be not only the improbable, but both parties had resolved an impossibility. That being said, a walk was had. Not off the side of the building but on the solid concrete that would fuel the conversation that would last a lifetime. Who knew an ocean was portable? She had no idea. The actual transference of energy could be felt, the ramifications were unseen, but she felt herself falling right off the edge. As did her phone. Right out of her fucking pocket. Chaos ensued. Reality notwithstanding, all of the engraved muck ups, not for you, not ever, brewed into a deep & thick chrysalis that brought her not back to reality, but to the ever present fuck youatude of the situation that had a way of continuously appearing for quite some time now. Long enough for her to believe them. It was too late. She was in ever loving, swooning l o v e. There were strange occurrences, close calls, blatant displays of back to black and just plain back. Then he was there in the midst of the dust, debris & shattered memories of things no one that had ever taken a breath ever wanted to know. Waiting. Looking. Approaching. Embracing. He brought her the ocean. Again.

I changed my Mind.

So one day all of the things that seemed to be set, maybe not in stone, but certainly viable none the less, sort of, just melted. A sufficient fire had been stoked, made its way into the dark that had held the tension and misconstrued ideologies for what seemed like an eternity and vanished. In it's place grew realizations that had always been dormant but never allowed to surface. It made her fearless in a way that she had previously believed was only reserved for those of the dawn, but came to find, they were also for the wolves of winter. She saw that the painstaking waves of contentment deprived years had been in close succession to one another for so long, due to the necessities for these truths to rise. It isn't in one day that they appear, but over a series of time that is on a pace unknown to the receiver, but they ARE here. No more nickels echoing in sad cups, no more vein stopping to subdue her children's absence, no more bottoms of things without bottoms but wrangling with the idea that there might be in this one. It all came to a halt, when she saw that winter was in fact not forever and there were mountains of glass that one was trying to move through to get to her. She didn't know anyone was looking. Her person had discovered her again. And for a long time, rain had never sang to her in the way that it did then. A wind telling of encapsulated fatalistic events that had to happen in order to get here was on its back. She knew that maybe not only should she live, but deserved to after the smoke. The apex of the triangle had been appointed to his care, and it was like then never was and would never be as good as right now. She knew it was him, because air was meant to carry something, and she chose fire. She knew she would never know the cold again.

The Devoid are making a Pilgrimage to my Medicine.

Ever notice how some folk always think they can wait it out; leave a rusty busted & most certainly un taut canoe out in the water, just to see, see if there's any bite left? There's hole in it love. There's no dyke big enough in the world to fill it, particularly, when it's docked in my yard. Perhaps the answer, is to simply stop stealing my force that can't be reckoned with & feigning ownership to it. I have earned my keep under the soft night & am in little to no danger of losing my medicine. I suggest you stop leaning so hard on socially acceptable memes that some how translate to your virtual happiness, promulgating a way of life that is foreign to you and have no business treading through in the first place. I wish truth upon you in a way unbeknownst to you as of now. If that doesn't gel, you can always go back to being a bottle blonde, buying spanx & or Jordans respectively, planting fictitious seeds where no soil lies and last but not least; if you can't stand in my light, certainly don't hide in my shadow.

Dear Da Nv Tli

It's a gnawing feeling, yeah? Like being suspended from moments you didn't understand then, so they were erased via heroin or otherwise at the time, but not really, now their here again in this muffled loquacious haze that keeps you at bay from falling in but it's not enough. Where you were, I don't know. I know the endless dicks, rigs, blood and floors didn't provide any of the shade this suspension allows a peek at. I wish you hadn't left, but I understand, you run with black horses. Making sense of this without you is difficult and I need you, but you're not with Elisi at the moment, there, but not there, she said so. I m not slipping but not sure this is an endeavor that I can stomach for a long period, however, there's not a choice it's accompanied by either. It's all deadly. Thank you for sending him. He's doing it. Wado da-nv-tli.

Lighting the way.

I had seen them before, creaking in on the splintered floorboards, in between flame licks that somehow never seem to touch me. I knew I wasn't like them and that my fate would be one ripe with choice, not of a series of mistakes that I actively participated in. They seemed to volunteer for such things and ends. It was and is not in my nature to allow atrocities to stay and make a home, not for too long anyway. Folks tend to make their choices so final without any thought to the groundlessness than can take and does nest in their already packed psyches. It is as fascinating as it is sad and am glad that I can choose not to get my ticket punched. The delicate orb that once embodied the soothe has expired for them. As they march into what not to do again and again, they are beacons for me and I appreciate every last one of them. To the slaves of vastness in all the wrong ways, thank you. You pave the way clear. Wado.

See Through You.

Crystal ships bearing inanimate pleasantries that may or may not be constituted as friendly in nature. More of a friendly fire situation; not meant, but excused by way of negating said intention. There are others, you know. Other transparencies, looking to expose just enough to instill a fallacious quality of safety all while bearing witness to the greatness of you and what you have done with the endless pile of corpses and vagabond ideology that has insisted on making a living via a parasitic nature. A nature that infects but never lets up. A glass bullet. A poisoned tipped word, turning an age old phrase does not equate to one having no less a mercurial kind of fancy for intolerance and compassion alike. When the shadow became bigger, I knew you would be pleased. I knew you would run into the denseness of mediocrity only to be capsized by your own ego. I knew this. Meanwhile they're all riding that blue pony, that darkness you have laid out and claim to have no part in but we both know what time it is. Ponies and shadows are no substitute for tarnished spoons and honey warm sleep. A glass rig speaks volumes into the marrow of "know too much." What other alternative is there, than to march right up to said shadow, engage it proper and disintegrate? If there are other options, they have remained a mystery for 36 years and counting. I don't get care if you peek, just don't document. The Brown Madame seems to have made a point, several in fact. None of which I care to admit to, especially since there is no longer a known buffer. I came up. I came up to the apex of the thing and balanced on top of the black solder, just to remain there with more information and no where to unleash it. That's the thing about friendly fire, everyone's got an excuse as to why the inhale is happening but no accountability or gauze for the seed. Germination is killing us.

Right. And then....

Its a habitual thing you see, not self preservation, but an undertaking that never made its purpose known. Sick eyes are sick eyes, I know the cure. The one that's self prescribed. The one I use to take myself for a large portion of my lifespan. I know it's a rut, a kind of metallic over gloss of things meant to be overlooked. I am not on board anymore. I am rejecting the habit of your groundlessness. It has never been my station, yet somehow has become so. I participate in a clogged drain. There is little to no need in such feats. Now I remember. Now I remember how you looked the last day I saw you look at me and the warning that you gave. I m hip. I won't be taking any rides. Much less getting in the fucking car. I m awake.

This fucking....

How does that look? All wrapped up, sorted out and squared away under the watchful eye of a self declared misogynistic impersonator of a man proper? Seems trite and caution ridden, a path for one one does as he's told. Strange that you would beg that cloudy day now and not then. Odd that you would declare an emotional upheaval in the midst of your own demise ridden future. I must admit, I have never gave all that much thought to your lack luster self induced path of indifference and carefully keeping your shallow limbs in tow, accompanied by a soul that Jesus himself wouldn't deem worth saving. I want to wish your cloudy days into a tempest that would make your Grandmother feel the kick back, but you do a sufficient job of that yourself. Be better. Be better than you ever were so you can be worth the time anyone foolishly puts into you. At least then, at best, one could look back on you fondly. Your a lesson no one needs. Maybe you're the only one; the only one that needs to learn anything from yourself. Fish in a proverbial barrel, no? Its a shame, even all tucked up, the "man" part of you utters its proclamation from underneath borrowed maternal related skirts. (That bit is very important, due to the nature that even a woman's given nature wouldn't stoop to nurture yours.) Good luck in your row boat, I used your oars for my fire. Keep on your good foot, the rest of ya is bleeding out like a sieve every time you speak. That foot is the only one you got, maybe you should keep it in your mouth for the time being....

Says Who?

Well, I guess some would say, well they may say it's none of your business. Others, mainly kin to you, proper on not, may say it is. However, I m telling you it ain't. Furtive as you are, I m onto you in a way your Momma wasn't, say when you were 13 or so sneaking out of the house to going to do who knows what with fuck knows who. I slide past those monarchs, past those lazy day trippers with nothing short of a brilliant trajectory toward liberty you claim you want to know, nay be IN. I know whats your business and I ain't it, nor is my secret soul hush that you want infect with your crude stereotypical harshness; your harshness about life, limb and the ability to exude exactly as you should with no after thought of the perception of the other. That's the business. That's the vast well known secret of the few in the forest and the negated surreptitious strain of ya'll. I know your sad eyes and long nefarious tale of borrowed woes. I know you want me to open it. I know you want me to yoke up with you and tarry this sad sack with you, but you know I m tired, am seeking gainful salvation in a face of brutal shape shifting fallacy and I won't tread on your trip proper to your Mecca of man made, so please, with cherries on top, don't fucking intrude on mine. My Momma DID always say "It's none of your fucking business."

Its all on lockdown.

Absolution in clarity ridden decisions is always a welcomed commodity. However, there are instances when one is so ego ensconced and social, self induced expectations are so ingrained in a person, they rely solely on the mistakes of others to forge forward on the coat tails of others all while utilizing "strong, borrowed characteristics" of others to make their very bad decision not only a good one but one for others to look up to. These aspirations or rather the focus for them is still to collect sympathy, compliments and positive reinforcement for trudging on to fruition with their bad decision. Not only will I not applaud such a mistake, I certainly won't after knowing that I personally had given one all the information and evidence necessary to avoid said mistake. It comes down to pulling your fucking pants up, not trudging through and expecting the sentimental antidotes, but by being accountable, responsible and calling a spade a spade. To ask for support after fucking yourself on another's advice, experience and personal account is selfish, ridiculous and merits no support and zero understanding. YOU bought the lemons, make lemonade the best you can, sans my recipe.

Maybe we should all shut up.

Maybe. Maybe its a crystal ship. Maybe its a typhoon with all the makings of a hermetic peace that is promised by those you can't trust. Maybe its a doubt that is founded, maybe its a genetic defect that enslaves one to the mercy of a transient belief that it is one's birthright to cater to such a thing. The times where you squirm at the thought of having to suck it up one more time, or even worse, not. It could be the best time or the most opportune time to graft that insecurity onto a solid groundless mass that will leave you on the precipice of nothing, and maybe that's the best part. To swim in that deep, black question may be the best thing this life affords you, but the choice of that can be hellacious within itself. Maybe that crystal ship is chock full of fuck hope and that's the good news. Lets watch writhing pain dock and hope to shit not to hope.

So you wonder how it happened. You want me to tell you, enlighten, acquiesce to your primal need to know and you believe me the one to do it. I regretfully inform you that I have retired from the initiative induced lay it on-er. There is help a plenty bursting at the proverbial seams, waiting in a self induced exile you have banished it to along with other, now foreign concepts and breath, like "outside", "kindness", relieving one's own burden by yoking up to another's. These are all past times to which would cure what's ailing you, however easier, shinier, faster is a much more suitable weapon of mass distraction and I understand but will not support. False advertise one more compliant and see how fast I run from you. Stagnation kills, oscillation ensures a lengthy and definitive shrug, ambulance will reinstate a right form with vigor like no other. I am not the one to do it, or assist, but I sure hope you get squared away.....your commercialized death is putting a damper on my breakfast.

It's an amazing feat when the thing outside comes into play, the thing that resides around and wants to go within, but that self defeating or possibly external force encapsulates this sentiment into a palpable, enigmatic energy that can transport the interchangeable into something of value on a higher plane. Welcome to life without expectations, degrees of spiritual mutilation and endless opportunities for moving forward in a real way. This is always here, this decision to make, this chance to make good on making the best out of what you have laying lament, that only you have. Incredible psychic feats being displayed by a cohesive unit of harmony, common sense and an acute awareness of one's surroundings. All of these encompass the answer you've been looking for, at best a solid direction in which to propel your intentions forward in a way that is satisfying to you and quite frankly, that's all that matters. Lesson? Stop seeking out others to fulfill your needs when you have all the elements for that peace within yourself. Get your shit together.

How you came to be so.........

All the times that integrity was playing a key role in my character, you know, building it, molding, shifting and shaping, yours just seem to be faltering and failing miserably. In no other posture than one of humility I say that with a force of a collective conscious stampede. Never knew that in this whole massive and immense time frame we had been given, that this is what one, (one being more specifically you)would do with it. Let it skate on the thinnest of ice until someone else felt empathetic to your contrived and supposed plight and make it essentially, better for you. Along with wiping your nose and ass, respectively, and giving you the obligatory pep talk. Why wouldn't one want to get better on their own accord, of course with direction from others, but not solely allowing a convalescent footnote to be added to every decision. That's you. Withering, dying, allowing, cheating and not living. I never expected more from you, however, I expected and maybe that was the problem.

There is a golden thread that was cast that I wasn't able to catch. Maybe I m late, maybe I didn't know, maybe it wasn't meant for me, just to see, just to peep it for a quantum moment and then abandon the notion. The notion that I know, I know that you don't want to know and there's nothing I can do to remedy the static stratosphere that has been put into motion from the not quite the beginning, but more unfortunately, rather recently. There are too many hushes, too many carefully thought out "next" steps. Those steps are always seemingly perpetrated by media suckling soldiers that serve in the worst state of devastation I can fathom in this world, or any other. That golden thread is a cast off, a throw away, a diversion for the awake to take a stab, uninterrupted immersion into a better chasm of conscious knowing and sharing in that with others that are like minded and have made their way off the grid, on the grid, in silence proper, in plain sight, breaking it off telepathically to the other one who knows. More than you know who knows. There's a sphere filled with all of the collective energy of the like minded spitting out connection threads and that's why I know you on another plain than this one that seems so artificial and small. I'll find you and always put the light on for you to find me. Make no mistake, I m in for the long haul, with you, you and you and NOT "you." It's not that long of a way to go, so keep trucking. I got needles for that golden thread and know exactly where to house it. Hold on not for dear life, but to awake to the one that sits right beyond you in form reach and go a little further to that astral one......that's where I am; I got you.

Quit Hiding.

There are few things that jazz me more than “penny proverbs”, and the like; slogans that people dished out on their own volition by way of passive aggressive delivery and snide burnt toast looks to accompany said dig. Now, I’m all for digs, however at the expense of wit, no ma’am. It went beyond the see a penny pick it up manusha, but to encapsulate what these fuckers really were getting at it was the prize. Far too often, normal everyday folk are looking to make it retail Christmas time in a way unbeknownst to the poor souls it ultimately affects, however, I have a meaning in store……(as if you didn’t know that.) Before we get into it, I hope I have cushioned you sufficiently for you to become and remain exposed for the next however it may take for you read this. Hunker down friend. The thing about self-righteous ginger is this, contrary to popular belief, said ranger’s birthday is in fact in the spring, that’s one. Two, this very holiday that Christians especially tend to hold near and dear find it the precise time to dole out douchbaggery in droves and assimilate in the nearest Mall and have at these helpless low self-esteem ridden kids to pump than more than full of unstable mental hygiene, but their own nads as well; moving onto Universal consciousness as we know it. Upon meeting someone, anyone, random elderly at grocery store, fellow nerd in line at some Comicon or what have you, one tends to ignore their first response, the one that guides you into the place you want to be and begs you out of the ones you choose anyway. People ignore this internal light more often than not for many reasons but the main and really the root of all the other ones is fear. Fear of the entire obvious pamphlet esque obligiatories but mostly, because if someone can really see into our soul and be the same there is no mystery into the drama we wish to create, hence making for a societal norm of a “boring life.” Why is this? We all know it, we certainly know we all do it and here’ some gravy, when one doesn’t participate in the exchange in the expected the way, the other person will literally flee before you. It will begin internally and then the excuse of why they have to go here or there will manifest; incredible to watch, sad to take in and empowering when it’s you causing the fleeing. Ignoring the thing that creates and breathes life into the things you want to do does the same job on a daily basis with everything else, there’s just no moxy behind it hence the motions seemingly turn into exactly that, motions; completely devoid of real flow and life force that is willing and waiting to be utilized as to attract universal positivity and or whatever opportunities for growth there may be. I used to run from this for the exact reasons or excuses rather that I am stating now. However, upon welcoming these unseen and dare I say mystical nuances, absolute magic happens along with making beauty an everyday occurrence as per a mind being opened till the point of uncomfortability, turned out again and now it’s on. I understand, you think I have went around the bend, and anything is a possibility, be that as it may, I have not only experience and examples, but evidence of our overall denial of all things intangible for the purpose of explaining why this world dominated denial takes place at all with my own flavor I have nipping at its heels tucked away…..but not too far. It starts at home: no you can’t wear that…yeah well, why? Suppose they laugh, suppose the neighbors foul you for letting your kid dress like an epileptic fireman ballerina going to the recycling center, then what? What necessarily does that equate to in the big picture? Your ego and the fear attached to it. It has felt as though it has taken me lifetimes to assess and make good on being myself, really myself, sans all innuendos that always want you to pay homage to them in this world that demands you be a certain way even if that way IS being different, there are niches for that as well. It comes down to what you and what the action you take exhibits as well one’s reactions to that action. More to come, but I don’t want to wear you out with a long winded spell about quantum psychic phenomenon that you redirect on the daily out of what this fuckface next to you may think. Stay golden and off the fence. -H