this would make me empassioned, or
impassioned. i am passionate about this something…
that’s how i get
who’ve never left the states
try to fix
other people’s problems
their English language exclusively.
the irony of westernization; fixed only by itself. YOU SEE?
and that is what they call backwards and selfish.
tho, there will be no stories of this on the news.
because just get out there and disrupt because.
and they should
call those who
think locally “nationalists” too.
a bunch of loud fools.
you know, somethings don’t translate.
you know, people might have different opinions.
this is how language works.
so when they/you designate
their/your ideas, ideations, and ideologies
as such, i just smh in realtime.
so silly, so stupid, so same.
that is why i am a where-ever-i-am-at-ist,
because i am right there,
i can attempt to understand
what i see and experience around me,
for me, for truth, for better.
maybe even for you…
but honestly, not for you (i don’t care)
or the tv (forget tv), i won’t facebook livestream it
or create a clever sign that
gets thrown away next day in some ironic carbon footprint
(that you too should actually hate)
after the post and the filter and the likes–fretter fakes.
and that is what i am passionate about,
or empassioned about, or impassioned about,
all that is around me
because i can touch it tangible,
as they said, i can feel the real,
i can set the clock next to the bed.
and there is something about language and labels.
Take all chances.
Do things that others tell you not to do.
Do what you think is right.
Prepare yourself for a career you enjoy from experience.
Labels and titles do not matter.
Always be present and visible.
Believe in yourself, really.
Have a passion for what you are interested in.
Always, always be early.
And think positive.
We no longer need reason
To say things are wrong
We no longer need action
To define our meaning
and the sweet
and the clover,
only had without
coming so close
to what we
had to offer,
coming so close
to what we
a pale storm cell of creamer in my cup
rolling from glass bottom straight up
a mind awakens this alarm clock blues
roused from slumber slightly amused
warm air to storms
we too produce
from the consumed
sapporo & sushi &
would come out
as new energy again
a production of us
now take to the air
Sordid pieces of me to go
strewn about all days;
coming together now.
Such a puzzle to complete,
all things as newly breaking,
waves at water’s edge.
… Breathe. That’s it…
Stepping through tall blonde prairie grass
I leave one modern world quickly behind,
busy it buzzes & calls in sirens & hums,
lost out here on my own, biding my time.
child of the week,
but nothing to do,
monday is gone.
Tuesday is here.
and we go at
in the week
we pretend it’s
it’s really not.
the real deal,
the very second.
alive, here it is.
next day taken away.