“Touch, I remember Touch… Pictures came with Touch, A painter in my mind, Tell me what you see…”
Daft Punk
———
nyc sunset JFK airport outside terminal friends families harmonious gatherings depart/arrive cityscape safari, as in midst —
blondyn
watch on solo stirr’d to core-realm depths O soul w/ heavy heart’d typical via da dada-warp’d mind-bind that “make sense” the momentaryness & translate as
sad
(profound plop @ that.)
felt ‘lone. stranded. detached from crowded atmos. and how bad (BAD blondyn) to adopt 'n become such an OUTlook in face of new journey he on verge of venturing
afterall, was pack’d for SD — hometown land where sis to be wed where friends families harmonious gatherings were likely to be radiant with presence — some of which they’d likely shine on blondyn
and w/ blondyn having not been back since he left for nyc, upon seeing him would maybe want to hear on the story of just where exactly he be @
(exactly)
feels he left SD a 0 & be right about same quantity — for sincerely what hath he to hith name? but experience of the road, some novel he wrote, and years gone by like — all the same
“tho feel more out of touch…”
he thought 'pon this point seriously… some more, even… and then reframed —
“no blondyn,” he thought, “not out, but lost — ye hath lost touch w/ humanity…”
here’s how—
in SD, blondyn wrote a story, then decided NYC the place to deliver. upon arriving, however: “needs refining” and so blondyn wrote his story some more
in NYC he wrote wrote wrote and then he wrote some more. “almost there,” followed, “not quite right,” he disappeared into writing some more
& all this writing went on throughout street-life — an incongruent mode when it comes to melding w/ society… turn’d out write-write-writing + street-life-living =’d recipe 4 losing touch with modern world
wanna top that sugar-yum-sundae w/ a formaldehyde-soaked maraschino? take a “no-facebook” stance to social media presence, hence isolate oneself from the perhaps most living/breathing part of virtual universe (hey caveman)
sun dunk’d and set. blondyn stood in darkness and took his time (had a morning flight—was spending night @ airport) meddling on how write write writing had been the singular vehicle to disconnect his existence from the world
in darkness he thought on this hard, harder yet, reinforcing a manic spike of depression that knife’d to the point of migraine stress-fracture pinging him focal-wise over + again till reaching to Third Eye depths of brow like lightning bolt strike o Magic —
“no more —” he thought, “no more of this benumbing discontent…”
blondyn perspective’d
“you are @ the beginning a new journey and right now are going to overcome this woesome tyrant!”
(how tho?)
“starting now, you are going turn it around, via what has proven to be your own worst enemy—writing.”
(how tho?)
blondyn thought. pondered. did not give up.
“through power of the word, you will emancipate thy self, by rendering it thy outlet for connecting to the world — for helping to liberate all souls that could use a learning or two just as you mos’ def do.”
with that, mind heart spirit started churning like butter as slowly solidifying his stance that his trip of return to the homeland, was also to mark his voyage to the human race
“yes,” thought blondyn, “to connect —” and tho his sis be the 1 to be wed, t'was blondyn who was already attuning his own vows to life ∞ love via touch to u
“Ah get born, keep warm, short pants, romance, learn to dance…”
Bob Dylan
———
alright my sandel ‘n sock rockin’ — beat-bo-boppin’ — headband — headphone — rag-noggin’ reppin’ younginz of Hell’s Kitchen —
time near 'rrived for blondyn to press up'n out these parts, & while w/out sage sayins / words of wisdom that could bless a youngin’ more precious than one’s Due Experience, this note O rhythmic his parting gift to you
stay true. starts there — 'n here — 'n now— give yo best to life ∞ love where intuition hint the opportunity t be @
along the path don’t let the struggle jam your mental. keep working @ that swagger to the best of your finesseful prowess — see y'allready got the stroll down to one flow. so improve the wave! trough the crest! toppermost of poppermost’s best! never forget — brotherz in it w/ each other — all @ the test — watch out for one another. keep the beef to a min. w/ a MAX — watch out for that sunglass’d woman intent on frontin’ — POLICE van right ahead! avoid the crime — take the time to put 'n keep the copper in mind so as to clearly define the law of the land by which you choose to navigate (don’t do in vain) (temptation watch/want/drain you) meanwhile keep that step from the sewer drains, 'n don’t advance another w/out being intent on passion to develop, purpose to discover, & beyond that… well…
blondyn still w/ way much to learn on yet… perhaps all in all just best to remember that chocolate no ask questions — chocolate gets
first foremostly this we be after — beyond all desire / fantastic / senseless ecstatic , n0 substitute 4 the OM harmonics inspired of envisioning a true-to-truth adaptation of big picture framework experienced w/ realtime measure via serene
crystal clarity
and nop. don’t got. all part the work in progress — props of which but knick-knacks O rhythmic licks stitch’d together w/ elementary wonder
(we want Solution!)
and doesn’t matter however close or far we be collectively / individually / spiritually , so long as we’ve come to terms w/ The Resolve that the air we breathing inhale by ex respirating the life ∞ love pump of us… … .. . on point to onward spin Journey
and right now, having just done the Hudson Sunset Run is stretching on the rails @ Pier 84, beside a hun staring on Watercolor Majesty before us as talking on the phone ‘bout issues w/ the biz — credentials she got — her underpaid lot — and Corporate America that done her dirty wrong, yet subtly topp’d her off w/ the Blessing to capture this Beautious reason for it all…
(what = Enough?)
and b don’t judge — but seek to reiterate the Agassi + Mandela (AM) singularity of the matter —
everyone on the Journey! collectively / invidually / spiritually! , each yearning 4 Paradise yet 'quipped wit’ nothing but Presence
(embrace the Mystery!)
is there any other way to peace? o u babe? course naturally. (only) & when’s a Love to lend a Life to us and show how a huney do?
get back to me w/ certainty — meantime, Moving Day —
