Into the night, James Morrison's "IF YOU DON'T WANT TO LOVE ME" sings a desperately sad song... TONIGHT feels heavy. EYE live in a time capsule hoping to write thoughts that land on their feet and hit the ground running. But tonight is PURELY exhaustion. Weeping is worth 10 friends, but it's just me here tonight. And these thoughts without TEAR(S). So I go WITHIN to avoid the physicality of this SILENCE.TURN MY MUSIC UP.
We lost. But won. But lost. But won. Lately the stage has felt like a battlefield of some sort - of inner conflict... rather than HOME. The challenge of stepping on stage, digging a hole that could easily double as a grave, and planting seeds in hopes of growing something worthwhile is daunting.
Planting POET-TREES.
Picking and plowing a field of dreams in an attempt to tempt fate.
CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?
In a lot of ways, MUSIC saved my life. But in other ways it has been responsible for my demise. I write to pour myself out to myself. I'm blessed to have anyone want to read/listen to it. But sometimes I wonder what it's all worth in the end.
And:
The ROBBER yells "Put your hands up!"
The RABBI yells "Put your hands up!"
The RAPPER yells "Put your hands up!"
= The posture of prayer
Put your hands up!
"I love HIP HOP so much it hurts." - Thus spoke my soul - to its SELF from its SELF.
In chess, a sacrifice is to deliberately give up material to achieve an advantage.
SACRIFICE.
MUSIC. Lives here.
Et Lux In Tenebris Lucet.
