Today, I felt my pulse for the first time in so long. Embracing. Like that moment in life, "Why talk about it?" cause shit, you right. From you I've learned to go back to the truth and fact. What does it even mean. Poems that matter to remember: "Never eat chicken again.' Listen, here is what this is. Happening. I don't know why or because of or who and all I know is that when I've put my experience first, while wise, I also missed out on so many of what was for me. Even now, as I can shar...

Here, I find myself. In a place that I could begin to explain with words of matter, that ironically to how i mean it, speak of a much deeper matter. I am feeling this reality, that remembers Nicolas and Gabriel all out of wack. That is still scared of the sounds any innocent home makes because of the Kyle that broke in to my room and attacked me. Here, in of all of myself, is the boy aspiring man, who still feels inadequate for being who I am to the perception of others. Yet, I have found that h...

As it is, so will it have to be, all that this is, our song. Will birds sings their favourite chirps that to the need of the ear have a place at the dinner table? Will the trumpets trilling about within the waves of truces, and compromise land orchestrated on those whose time signature comes different because of these same players of the instruments? Will the flick of he wrist, belonging to the choir director be that of the hand that has been cut off in its accceptance and impeding, righteously ...

Much like a coin, things are their value as they lay in their resting spot overnight. Jealous coin, as silver couldn't toss & turn as goldenly as we did. The best part about it is, we're still waiting on the gold, but gold was indeed made in this tuning of bodies. To the eyes that see themselves, I promise I see you. I see the way you smile when you talk color or the pose your smile allows itself to be witnessed when you add mediums. Though my favourite is how through all that, you're eyes a...

When I write about it, my voice allowed makes it depend on the paper. Or maybe the ink to my eye. Or if you ask my hand, the indentation on a surface. Surface........?¿ What is that even to begin to understand of itself that is what is that I can indent on....!?. I think I finally understand what it is to, well, not understand...... understandingly understood. Understand me. Understood. I live for the undoing of the shitshow I used to think was crochet, out of understanding and learning res...

Written stream of consciousness with Aren "It's like this wall of water but, we choose to become an airplane and we fly right over it." Life is nothing but a dream, so just sail. What's out there that I can't imagine to prepare to smile through anyway? Life is a dream and I'm here for it. It could be tall, but so am I. Could be loud and vicious, but so have I. So what's out there that I can't smile through? I'm on my way and I'm already here. There's nothing to fear; I create so, therefore I am...

All love and joy at the round table. Words and moments of love given to all, forwardly with eye to greeting. I love this straightforwardness. Alexander said it best tonight “So direct yet so simple and true. It's respect.” We all had our best selves on where to say we were smiling would cheapen off to some hallmark moment it simply wasn't. It was better. We could all say it was real. We sat and spoke, shared and shaped, trusted and venerated. Personally, I am honored to say; I believe we all too...