The concrete jungle is now middle class in a quiet meadow. The picture isn’t so pretty everyday. Stiff bones and aching hearts. Cohabiting and going different directions.
The real gets a little too real. The mistakes actually look like mistakes down here in this part of consciousness. To be brutally honest life kinda looks the tv show on showtime.
When days of pit stops and miscommunication are continuously on the horizon and growth needs to have a growth spurt but temporary situations become bumpers cars on Vaseline. Slippery slopes to I don’t know and wtf.
Spirituality not quite out the door and essentially the only thing keeping you connected to a higher pattern of thought so you don’t get lost in the sauce of staying alive and picking a exit out to nowhereland in a somewhereland near you.
I’m going to finish listening to music. Worry about my list of things to do in a world where my tweets don’t pay the rent and I couldn’t be happier that they could. I love the fact that this is life but a life that’s making me remember there’s still more to grow from.
C. L Cunningham