I been getting higher more, feeding myself in ways i never even thought i was hungry for. I have been speaking from the undercurrent of my soul more. Letting my eyes linger for longer and allowing myself to dip from spaces when I need to. Growing and being is clumsy and so raw. Something about the rush of blood to my head and hearing the sound of my own heart beat reveals currants of possibility to me. I am always talking about what could be which possibly makes me seem distant. but I revel, often at what we’re doing here. they don’t call it an orchestration for nothing and forgive me for being curt but ain’t we some fly ass mother fuckers? just out here, battling against the cries of apathy. being as much as we can be. it gladdens me. that is one of the ways i feed myself; residual joy; like spooning the last bit of honey into your cup before heading off to get more. i like to see a smile and crowds of em. i like to think that’s how we call this whole thing off - by just declaring ourselves enough right where we stand. no fanfare, just a harmony of sovereignty floating seventy thousand feet above the atmosphere. yeah, that’s how i picture it. me and you rolling into the sunset with our hearts upon our sleeves - with nowhere to go and yet, everything to be.