it is Big, but it ain't Easy

Currently listening to: Patty Larkin - "Italian Shoes"


the way it rolls
quickly off and away into a paper basket of spoken jumble
gumbo: huh?

It's not really my way of rolling, the way it rolls; but that's only because I don't really roll to a true understanding of rolls-royces.


It's been a few months since the last time I touched a piano keyboard. I'm feeling nostalgic: I have been spending a significant amount of time thinking about my privileged hiding behind the keyboard that is paint-chipped in a music practice room-- my ability to transfer all my love and live onto a piece of wood I can call my own on whatever level I choose.
The greater privilege? Hiding behind a computer keyboard tap-tap-tapping away at the world I love and disagree with; not having the disturbing face-to-face conversations about murder and hate as another sketchy-lookin' dude flies by in his fly-lookin' machine made of weapon-material.


There is a lot of work to be done, but I still totally hope to touch at least a single life in the few weeks that I've left here. Why, you ask? I know for a fact that a single jilt can cause an avalanche: it's that power-jilt of guilt instilled by forces filled with bitter. A conversation about power and the lessness of it reminds me not to fight, but

hey, Bitter! I will destroy you.