t'was mid-afternoon ~ 93 degrees air wethot humidity no breeze
@ Columbus Circle approximately, on return from a writing session had @ fordham university as fathoming on the decision to be made when heat hunger cosmic whirl of city goes like
he stops on the spot. blood starts simmering. boiling. temptations, connivingly arising. pressure points, arrested. adrenaline + cortisol stress hormone spectrum unleashed like vicious protein-venom, unwinding the logic w/ raging vengeance. circulation tightening.
temptation temptation you son of b*tch & botch’d on the spot, @ loss for what to do, yeah… it happen like that
and so there stood blondyn, frozen midafternoon via midsummer night heat w/ a trial @ hand & fantastically stuck as passerbys do so, wondering like:
“where he staring into?”
meanwhile deep breaths be had test well underway, out the midst of imagination, the Rubicon appears, Ring of Fire, about us, bound to be crossed, one way or another, changed forever —
fly or die moment.
deeper breaths be had. concrete jungle behind central park before. started walking. an unthinking automaton. unwilling to truly trust just walk walk walking in central park, & had a seat, meditation, aka, forwarding of all thought via One Direction
the practice has become regular, but the evil had hit hard. keep focus’d, anyhow on One Direction harder & harder longer still… minutes — hours — eternities go by, leaving us behind — til simultaneously like —
opened eyes. meditative focus, instilled lazar-like, even still — a tunnel of vision that sustains, in a strange way akin to permanence… right then a phrase, recited —
“I am the master of my fate— I am the captain of my soul—“
it occurs to him a new light on — the Way by which he’s going to see, hear, think — One Direction, like magically, the one and only way there be.
more images flash —
he thinks on the ‘Condensate,’ sign in his storage room crib strewn on the pipe that run across the room to the light.
he thinks 'to Condense’ and then, some more deeply on this place of living for nearly the past ~ 3 years
he hears —
onward beyond this. he continues to think. sees difficulty. great challenge. but mind heart soul knows 4 real, now for certain the journey must go on…
he remembers a passage from Andre Agassi, Open about the tennis pros’s meeting w/ Nelson Mandela—
“…Mandela talks about the road he’s traveled. He talks about the difficulty of all human journeys— and yet, he says, there is clarity and nobility in just being a journeyor. When he stops speaking, and takes his chair I know that my journey, compared with his, is nothing, and yet that’s not his point. Mandela is saying that every journey is important, and that no journey is impossible…”
no journey is impossible
and what’s more, it’s occurs to blondyn his particular journey, at the core isn’t even about him, but all that has yet to be — yet to come — all that remains to be created b/w us — a value that has yet to be proven… and what to prove?
— the inner voice rings, and as so, something evolving beyond… a new sensibility… shrewd responsibility demanded of him— that’s always been demanded of him— yet never til now so wholesomely acknowledged
“why did it take so long?” — the Q that presents itself to b like Primetime Wonder, but it doesn’t matter — time, now. presence, be & w/ it, a newfound commitment to our journey beginning.
“…I am now more nearly a grown member of the human race…”
& so like that, it happened that yet another turn of the wheel changed blondyn’s state in a way with which he was unfamiliar, but nonetheless
and being open, the decision to deliver the journey
beyond right / wrong however it go, do remember, it all happened a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…