(no subject)
I went to Barnes and Noble to take a 30 minute break from running stats earlier today and figured I could grab some coffee and a book for later. Upon arrival, the Nook kiosk was front and center. I could hear clapping from the cafe side and noticed that there was an open mic night going on. The first thing I decided to do was head straight for the Business and Economics section to check for emerging trends.
"This is the first slam poem that I had written..."
I looked back over to the cafe and my vantage point had me directly behind the speaker, yet distant. I could see all these white eyes aiming back and I hid back amongst the shelves, intimidated, propping my body up against the Management section. I began to imagine what it would be like to be over there, and then I remembered that I was over there, in a different place and time. A flood of memories came over me...all the raw emotion and thought and poetic craft that I used to dabble in...I remembered Capo's and Higher Ground and Mambo and here I am, alone, hiding in a forest of authors.
I tried to check out some of the Business and Econ books in front of me and completely lost focus of why I even concerned myself so much about it. It all looked really vague or really negative. There was a reason why I'm in these stacks instead of on the other side, drinking coffee and getting lost in a story. There was a point when I thought to myself that there is more in life to do than that...that I would have to consider a career and possibly start a family and continue on the chain of human existence.
I feel like I am back to where I started and ten years ago and I thought, I could do this all over again if I wanted to. I could get caught up in all of these different scenes, make hundreds of friends over the course of nearly a decade, but then I have no idea where that would take me.
Right now, I exist in a juncture where every decision is still critical and all I really want to do right now is just laugh and love and possibly nothing else.
Summer classes start on Monday. This has been such a long vacation.
"This is the first slam poem that I had written..."
I looked back over to the cafe and my vantage point had me directly behind the speaker, yet distant. I could see all these white eyes aiming back and I hid back amongst the shelves, intimidated, propping my body up against the Management section. I began to imagine what it would be like to be over there, and then I remembered that I was over there, in a different place and time. A flood of memories came over me...all the raw emotion and thought and poetic craft that I used to dabble in...I remembered Capo's and Higher Ground and Mambo and here I am, alone, hiding in a forest of authors.
I tried to check out some of the Business and Econ books in front of me and completely lost focus of why I even concerned myself so much about it. It all looked really vague or really negative. There was a reason why I'm in these stacks instead of on the other side, drinking coffee and getting lost in a story. There was a point when I thought to myself that there is more in life to do than that...that I would have to consider a career and possibly start a family and continue on the chain of human existence.
I feel like I am back to where I started and ten years ago and I thought, I could do this all over again if I wanted to. I could get caught up in all of these different scenes, make hundreds of friends over the course of nearly a decade, but then I have no idea where that would take me.
Right now, I exist in a juncture where every decision is still critical and all I really want to do right now is just laugh and love and possibly nothing else.
Summer classes start on Monday. This has been such a long vacation.