you say you love me like this
like never before
then why I am I alone right now
magic exists in us
so i forgive your forgetfulness
and I hope you forgive when i forget you
It is night now
I love this time of day 3 a.m. … it is love loss, rujevenation all in the same.
He wasn’t quite sure what to do next. His little sister was crying, his mother was lying on the floor with her eyes rolling in and out of her sockets. And there was a man at the door yelling,
“Open up you dirty bimbo,” the voice said.
Timmy didn’t know what a bimbo was but he knew if he opened the door the man would come in and try to shake his mother. It was not possible to shake her out, but he would yell and shake and it would make his little sister cry. The haze of whatever she syringed herself with usually lasted several hours. You had to catch her in between the end of one haze and the start of the next one if you wanted to talk to her.
He had determined in his 11 years of life that during the first week of a new month the minutes between the end of one haze and the start of the next haze were limited to just a few. The end parts of the month were different. During those days his mom would sometimes get up at the end of a haze and buy food, maybe even make dinner, maybe even talk about things. The end parts of the month were Timmy’s favorite.
But if you tried to bother her in the haze she would throw things and the man would definitely be angry if she threw things. Timmy placed the glass of water he had been holding down on the ground and picked his frame up off the floor. He felt his knee crack a little he must have been huddling over his mom a long time. He slowly walked over to the front door.
“Open the door you little shit.”
To read the rest just click HERE it is free today February 10, 2019 on Amazon.
There is no black and white and there is no pure evil or good, this is the story of Timmy and his grey. The story about a little boy and the math that added up to the after man sitting in the aftermath of a chair.
Thank you and take care,
Beyonce’s apeshit video is lovely in unto itself.
We see her creating a comparative to existing great works of the caucasian kind.
In the big picture, these types of videos just create a baseline of what is great. And with her video she has indicated what is great and what you must live up to. And apparently greatness amounts to paintings created by Western painters. And so a measure of greatness is if you can dance in front of/vies/chide paintings created by Western creators.
Ir is sad – that this is our measure of greatness.
This does not help to expose all of the amazing artists in the non-wetern realm – or even make people aware aware that they exist.
This kind of prose just leads people to fight against one another. A better way is to expose arts from different cultures and let us inspire. We are not in a campetition, there is more than enough for all of us.
We can all create and do beautiful thingns for the world – we don’t need to stand near a picture of someone who created something great. We can create something great ourselves and share it.
Creating something is like having the magic of life in your own hands.
Forget these people that lead us astray … let’s create beautiful things …
You can make something amazing from your own mind – share it.
Let us all be creators, not consumers of other people’s ideas.
Image courtesy of Robert Baker who you can find on Unsplash.
If you do not exist in my life
Do you even exist?
Perhaps what is alive in my life is what I created
So perhaps we all live solitary lives of our own creation
Nothing exists beyond our mind
If I create you in my mind
If I have not created you
You do not exist
You are just a thought
Swirling in the hopes of existence
Until you are captured
By a brain that makes you real
And then you enter the world
That made you real
Maybe nothing is real
But your thought
Which makes things real