(this is more than 2 years old)

"You don't have to compromise your soul. The most positive thing you can do when someone puts the microphone up to you is to speak truth. That's the most invigorating feeling -- speaking truth into a microphone."
(c) Saul.Williams.

what's the truth?

the truth is that i'm not where i need to be...

the truth is...

that i need 2 eat, & my malnourished imagination just wont grow on faraday's law & digital logic fodder...

the truth is...that i used to love her & that love never died & that love never lied, but i'm so used to the run-&-hide game that i've forgotten how therapeutic frankness can be. i've lost my earnest innocense...

& i sense that...

the truth is...i'm losing...my grip, strapped in a straightjacket on a sinking ship that's not improving...& procrastinating defectors get nowhere because a great escape w/ more great than escape is...

vanity in itself.

& the truth is...i need help. a lot more than my fear will let me admit, but reaching out is such a pain & i'm masochistic, have been for aeons, but not in THAT sense & i pen the pain, day in, day out...

but yesterday deserts me, today betrays me & tomorrow makes no promises & expects me 2 understand. the truth is that understanding doesn't come easy & inside, is a frustration seething...an ocean teeming with accomplished thespian after accomplished thespian...

all chained to their own reasonable, responsible, act-yr-age obligations...forced to forsake their delectable dreams, born out of stolen moments of delirium...

the truth is...i'm serious. serious as i'll ever be & my predicament models itself after my patterned existence & it's easier to frown & throw hands up in exasperation than make a moment matter & serve complacency to the uninspired upon silver platters &...

the truth is...i had no metallic cutlery weighing my tongue down when conceived, but still i bleed...the most azure droplets you'll ever synthesize in yr somnia...glistening turquoise globules that encompass eternity in their crystal curves...

the truth is...

something's gotta give. & give soon because the donations are drying up & philantropy is a dying art.

the truth is...i am...

possessed of a dying heart, & the surgery's hurting me...& the cancer wont leave...& i can't seem to evict the malignancy for the life of me...see, kleptomaniacs schooled my pessimism & i'm held in rapt attention to their theivery...

the truth is...

that i'm not where i need to be...that i need 2 eat, & my malnourished imagination just wont grow on faraday's law & digital logic fodder...

the truth is that i am father redwood's son & mother nature's daughter...

& i'm lost, languishing & devoid of compass. encapsulated, encompassed & cucooned in a homeostatic-womb that denies me my God-given birthright...

the truth is i want 2 bloom...

i want 2 bloom...

please, let me...bloom.