before i begin, before i dive in to a place where i don’t want to be, don’t want to swim..
before i let my mind become arrested by the laws of controversy and the passionless curriculum that has consumed the majority of my existence i will breathe.
and i’ll breath deeply and rest upon the idea that everything isn’t depending on this pending pattern of simply boring persistence, is it?
behold! the greatest literature rushed through like a crashing and smashing waterfall that doesn’t wait for the cat to jump out of the box and onto shore
the most wonderful words and rhythms unappreciated, the most shocking images thrown beneath a stack of files and folders, to be left to rust, collect dust and never be seen again.
behold, the sounds of pure strings and chords being plucked, played and ignored.
so teachers what can you tell your student that will ignite something inside that won’t end in a sigh of relief when it is done and over with, but more like a sigh of satisfaction and an eagerness to continue and grow into a life of passion?
i speak of passion much too often for this society to embrace my opinion,
i long for time and time is slim and sold out, there’s none left for me to own and with this being said i must stop and be gone
because this life i’ve made inside of my words is only real when they’re being written.
Accepting This 