Ain’t been a lot of places.  Ain’t seen a lot faces, but you see

Still can’t make ’em out.  Even in a faded crowd, you see

Prayin’ when the feelings fall.  Everybody sees the wall, you know

Run away from the voices, see. Run away to the choices, yea, you see

Runnin’ cause you feel the haze. Heat on you like summer days, you know

But just gettin’ started now. Ain’t here to fuck around

Lest you believe don’t make a sound. Just place your doubts down on the ground

Lonely is real.  It can hurt. It can judge.  It can spite.  And begrudge.  It can stain. It can leave. It can pain. Make bereave.  It can lie.  It can steal.  It can cut. But never heal.  It can whisper.  It can scream. Make a nightmare of your dream.  It’ll laugh. It’ll smile. Eat your heart all the while.  Take your thoughts. And memories.  Sample your lyrics and melodies.  It’ll lose your rhythm.  Find your flaws.  It’s your rebel. You’re its cause.  It can be infinite. Or temporary.  Or intermittent. Or unnecessary. 

Without music, lonely is real.

But when you can’t sleep, never say never

Let your mind be, ever and ever.

Call it a Divine scene, Storm in the Weather

Sowing of the Fine seed, how do you measure

Imaginary Faith calls, how do you choose

Talking to deaf walls, nothing to lose

No fear of the dark hall, the beautiful muse

No fear of a downfall, say hello to the ruse

Faith knocking at the window, breathing sublime

Where in the world do you go, thoughts confined

No rest for the ego, ominous sign

Victim of the night no, get up it’s time

So much to say, so much to say, so much to say, so much to say…….

Don’t know what else to say, what else to say, what else to say, what else to say………

Wanna tell someone else, tell someone else, tell someone else, tell someone else…….

Gotta keep to myself, keep to myself, keep to myself, keep to myself………

Is the sky really blue, sky really blue, sky really blue, sky really blue…….

Is this heart really you, heart really you, heart really you, heart really you…….

Lie my head on your breast, head on your breast, head on your breast, head on your breast…….

Your caressing my chest, caressing my chest, caressing my chest, caressing my chest……

I am lost in your soul, soul, soul, soul, soul, soul………

We wake up and I’m cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold…….

Is the sky really red, sky really red, sky really red, sky really red…..

Is this all in my head, all in my head, all in my head, all in my head……..

Why does the room fall, does the room fall, does the room fall, does the room fall……..

When there is no one at all, no one at all, no one at all, no one at all…….

To hold onto your hand, onto your hand, onto your hand, onto your hand……..

She just can’t understand, can’t understand, can’t understand, can’t understand……..

Nobody knows, nobody knows, nobody knows, nobody knows……

Except the echoes…………………..

Kim Potter, why did you kill a black person?

Here we go yet again, scourge of a nation causing pain.  Silent masses leaving stains, blood pours more often than summer rain.

Who can we talk to to get this to stop? We know for damned sure it won’t be a cop…..Too many lies and killings to uphold.  Their guns, their badges, their uniforms over their souls.

A 48 year old mother shot a 20 year old son.  So sad and senseless. 

WE NEED TO FIND OUT WHO IS SANCTIONING THESE EXECUTIONS OF BLACK PEOPLE.  THIS IS ORCHESTRATED ABOVE THE LOCAL JURISDICTIONS THAT ARE PERFORMING THESE ASSASSINATIONS.  THESE KILLINGS ARE PREMEDITATED.  I DON’T KNOW WHO ELSE TO ASK, SO……..GOD PLEASE HELP US TO FIND A SOLUTION.  AND GOD, WE NEED YOU NOW.  I KNOW THAT YOU SHOW UP “RIGHT ON TIME”, BUT WE ARE OVERDUE THIS TIME.  PLEASE HELP.  PLEASE HELP.  PLEASE HELP.  PLEASE HELP.  PLEASE HELP.  PLEASE HELP.  PLEASE HELP.  PLEASE HELP.  PLEASE HELP.

Food for thought:  imagine BLACK POLICE  killing WHITE PEOPLE this carelessly, callously and monstrously.  How different might the narrative be? 

So much more to say………

Rain. 2816. I know you need me.  I hear you falling. 

But I am not running.  I am not hiding.  I ain’t even worried.  I ain’t even scared.

Used you for cover.  Stood in your shadow.  Watched as you scattered.  Streaming and calling.

Late Sunday night.  Dreaming of days.  Searching for myself.  Sensing the air.

Something from nothing.  Uncontrolled thinking.  Searching for answers.  2816.

Rain. You hear me calling. You know that I need you.  You know what this means.

Three years of pros and cons.

Cons: bone spurs in shoulders, torn mcl, displaced neck vertebrae, pinched nerve, potential life saving surgery, then the Corona virus.

Pros: I can still play, I can still ride, I can still breath.

LIFE.

Well, I finally got my new mower.  After weeks of studying and searching, narrowing down the brand, style, model, price and retailer, I bought the exact opposite of what I planned to buy.

I like gasoline powered equipment.  Leaf blower, trimmer, lawn mower.  All gasoline.  Why?  Simple: more power and unrestricted run times.  So I had every intention of buying a gas powered unit.  A self-propelled walk behind Honda  HRX217.  There.  It was done. Or so I thought……

A few days before picking up that mower I started researching battery-powered units just for curiosity’s sake.  Interesting….I discovered that electric mowers have improved significantly.  More features, more powerful, longer run times and better durability.  Huh.  Okay. I began to wonder: could I finish my entire lawn with battery power?  Would I prefer the convenience of electric?  I was surprised by my newfound interest.

Three trips to the store and three times I return home empty handed. Could not decide. I had to make a choice. So I did. Notorius for settling for lesser models to save money, I broke from conventional thinking. I chose the the latest greatest Ryobi 40V HP mower. Glad I did.

Cuts great. Did the whole lawn on a single charge with time to spare. Twenty pounds lighter than the Honda. Self propelled. Quiet. No gas, oil, spark plugs, air filters, tune ups or fumes. The only negative about this mower? It makes me WANT to cut the grass!

Ahhh yes.  Studio One 5.2 Project Room.  Finally got some time to at least look at it.  Under the weather a little bit this week.  This view helped me feel a little better. 

What a difference a year makes, what a difference the time it takes. Both everything and nothing seem the same.

Confusing choices ambiguous faces, too much time to pretend to be gracious.  Entire world exists in a single window pane.

Wanting nothing you already have, needing more than you ever will.  The future calls with broken sounds and broken voices.

Such a difference a journey makes, any difference a turn can take.  Always the same, infinite and random the choices.

Miles away from everywhere, finding your place not anywhere. Who will die first your future or your past

Such a life a death can take, but what a difference a life can make. Always the same, forever and at last.