stay awake!

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Hey there, 6am
Your atmospheric yawn,
changing the backdrop of cobalt blues
to oranges, reds, and flaming yellows as our glorious sun wakes.
Oh, auspicious time
Celestial by nature
Hello.

Your possibilities are endless
Transformational
Miracles of the street-level kind
Oh, 6am masters,
I welcome you.

Here is the gift of another day
An invitation to witness the subtle, the marvelous
Oh, vulnerable eyes, stay awake!
Glorious mind, don’t lose sight.
So precautious in these challenging times
Mind, you are Distraction’s favorite feast;
Like a royal elephant,
that loses itself at the sight of a rodent,
don’t be swayed, old friend,
remember your strength.

Stay awake
All day
The jungle is thick and relentless
Remember this here, the sweetness of 6am.

survival of the fittest

survival of the fittest

FADE IN: a man talks into a camera.

Uh, I’m being inarticulate. You just gotta be focused. You gotta be clear in what you want and why. This world is changing. And it’s not looking good. You know.
NPR did this story about the Survivalists among the rich. These guys have built underground bunk-like-houses for the next “apocalypse”. They’re speculating a full-blown civil war. Billionaires have gone out and bought secret get-aways with generators and solar paneling, specifically for Doom’s Day. You know Reddit online? The fuckin’ chief officer carries with him a survivalist bag – canned goods, water, ammunition, maps. Another superrich dude went out and got laser eye surgery simply because he fears supplies will eventually dry up. I mean, yeah, who gives a fuck about his eye surgery, that’s not the point. Listen to what he’s sayin’.
They’re sniffin’ the shit and it don’t smell right. And who are they? The movers and shakers of our world.
Everything that’s happenin’ with Trump and China and Russia; the environment, mass shootings, the increasing black and white tension, – it’s not looking good.
But, that’s the point I’m trying to make. We can’t get upset about it anymore, we’re way past that.
[he laughs]
Nah man. The breakdown of society or at least a catastrophic earthquake is just around the corner. And now’s the time to get really crystalized in what you want and why you want it. So, what’s your Why?

FADE OUT.

Love After Love

Feast on your life Derek Walcott

The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

– Derek Walcott

sometimes it’s a saturday night

sometimes it's a saturday night

Sometimes it’s Saturday night.

To take that long hot shower.
To shave those legs.
To soak the hair in some strength-inducing formula.
To put that face mask on.

Sometimes it’s a Saturday night.

To drink chaga mushroom tea.
To take a luxurious walk with the dog with no destination or clock ticking.
To have soft 90s music soothing in the background.
To steam up some bone broth.

Sometimes it’s a Saturday night.

To give yourself the luxury of space…
To think, to reflect, to process, to dream.
Oh, what’s to be next!
Wait, savor this moment.

Sometimes it’s a Saturday night.

And suddenly, 10:30pm feels like 1am.
Where does the time go?!
The overwhelm of being alone
Swiftly turns to holding on to this me-time for dear life.

’til you’re ready

'til you're ready

I thought I was over it.
It’s been years.
But, it’s not like it’s been years and I didn’t do shit about it.
No, I processed.
I grieved, lost my way, found the map and got back on the path.
(like a machine?)

I don’t want to cry, I tell her.
Like she’s expecting me to.
“That’s ok! You don’t have to. It’ll find its way up.”
(my jaw tightens)

No, but that’s the thing.
This ain’t my first time at the rodeo.
I’ve balled, girl.
Slobbered, face distorted and all kinds of ugly.
(I’m getting tired)

Continue reading “’til you’re ready”