Unsettled

I'm drifting in and out of sleep, the traffic lights are blinking and the city,my city is both dead and alive. I'm happy. It's been a great night, and I'm patting myself on the back, No random calls, no summoning of past ghosts, no spineless wavy promises made at the peak of bridges of songs. "When the past calls, don't answer it has nothing new to say" And this is just as true on a Monday as it is on a Saturday night when your senses are dimmed. But the heart wants what it wants and humans have refined the art of self-justification propping up our egos or our will on flaky ass, half truths and skewed memories and skewed interpretations of past experiences. Not tonight though, tonight  I am present, here , conscious. Probably more than I've been in a while. And the stir in the back, and the voices around me rise, and then drown around me. Like raindrops drowning in puddles when they hit the ground. The banter

I've missed this, I've missed us . It's been a while, I miss our little talks and I should tell you,I'm not at home, Physically. I know,I know I've taught you to read deep into everything I say. I want to tell you, I hope to retire as a travel writer someday God-willing, but you should know that, by now. A travel writer,  and later live in the mountains as some sort of  philosopher who documents on the revelations of enlightenment. In my quieter years. I want to tell you that school is the same, soulless and lifeless and hamsters on a wheel. I know you're reading this and laughing. All the same I'm greatful for the strides. and draw comfort from the knowledge that it is He who orders my steps and my being here is a step in the fulfillment of my personal legacy. Yes,yes.I finally read the Alchemist and it was beautiful. I'm greatful for the strides overly,utterly indebted for the strides and the light bearers

" Tell me the truth of you all the messed up muddled truth and I will tell you mine and we can be forever  the secret keepers of each other's real" -Atticus. I love this. The honesty, The raw,refreshing honesty, the raw refreshing honesty of an honest conversation. "I like people on the table,open" I like myself,on the table, open and my favorite people Heck my favorite things are ranked based on the level of vulnerability they allow me to relish in. How comfortable they are when my flower is in full bloom. I like people,raw and honest I like myself,raw and honest. That Ella Mai 'naked'. I like people I like myself, "Seeing what's lost behind flaws" Bless her heart for creating a video aimed at promoting body positivity and social change. Honesty,vulnerability as undeniable as chemistry , Chemistry, because it isn't something that can be hidden or faked. It is something the body,heart and soul kno

It's been a while since I held a book in my arms, An actual hard copy, It's been a while since my fingers have creased pages, since my thoughts have curled up on the blank spaces between chapters. I'm experiencing withdrawal, and it's coming in the form of jerky neck reflexes Every time I see a book stand. I miss my boarding pass bookmarks, I miss turning the pages And I miss the mini-debate in my head, deciding whether it's a good idea to highlight the words/sentences/ideas I love the most. There's an element of personality it gives it but then again there's an eternal feel to a book with only words. For person(s) so eager to buy me drinks, I'll send you a copy of my reading list. If I was to put up dedications for this post, and I have put thought into this unlike some of my words, It would have to be to my darling Julie. And my kindred-writer-soul friend,Diggie. I just feel that there's something about wh