Don't Think About it

To be Human is to be Human.

Not our flesh.

Nor our blood.

Not even the good that we do makes us Human.

No matter who we think we are, or even where we started from, or decide to go.

Two be Human is easier than we think.

Our pains and sorrows don’t make us who we are.

Not our feeling to love or be loved.

But, to be Human is to just be.

Not to think.
2015, June 18

Hellschool or Highschool

Thinking back to highschool, I remember how much I hated it.

Hate spelled in all caps.

Not that all my four years in school was bad, don’t get me wrong. Good grades and being apart of the so-called community of the school was who I was. My last year really open my eyes to the plan bullshit my life there was.

Nothing I could ever do at my school really fuckin mattered. The things i had done for my own sake, was turn into things I done for others. Or to getting into a good school.

I didn’t learn anything of real importance my four years in Highschool. The only thing I learned was ‘we dont know anything about anything,’ and how ‘we all are better or worst then the person in the sit next to us.’

Which is completely wrong to teach any Human.

Highschool, is not the real world. Public school is a Hell of its own.
2015, June 26

The Poem on Locke Street

Peripatetic poet;
My feet, glued to the sidewalk, and then unglued.
My head, never separate from my body. Wandering the way the wind blows
Wondering who imagined this landscape
Do I remember when this place was as blank as a sheet of paper?
Where do I come from?
Where am I now?
Where am I going?
A map of my own thoughts moves fast
like horses around a track past open fields,
Or slow like water that flows from escarpment rock to invisible ponds of the city
Is to love it?
I read, speak, think with my feet.
Begin here,
Each step, a green light, a deep breath, a thousand mile journey, each step connected to the next;
Connected to the backbone by a line.
Merge with the dust, follow your shadow,
The world is not a machine;
The mind moves, at 3 miles an hour, as slow as a turtle