Leon Little Dragon Bridges

*a workout* 🏋🏾‍♂️ featuring two of my favorite artists. they’re going on tour together this summer 👀. Leon Bridges and Little Dragon. Seamlessly harmonize in full glory with no interruption.

(TIDAL LINK : https://tidal.com/playlist/02bd6568-a9bf-48b3-ad0e-c79129659540 )

blessed be your ears to their sound!

“did the words of the king disappear in the air? somebody should hand you a felony, cuz you stole from me!…my chance to be.” 🧾
“you can color in, flutter in : meadows and hills beauty gave us the chills…” 🦋
“I miss it all
Said you went down to Cor🏝pus
I miss you in the doorway
Stayin’ up all night
Silly, silly me”
“play it to the break of dawn!” 🎼
my grandmother’s name is Doris. she passed away 11.16.2020. she lived in new orleans. so much of this song felt like it was written for her memory. (at least all of those named Doris) Leon’s music alongside with the vibration of Khruangbin embodies all of the feels. chills. this whole EP is lush. 🛣
“crazy how you drip like water 💧 “
“her sweet melody follows me everywhere i go, running through my mind
sitting in this road, maybe i’ll write a letter…”✍🏾

The Signature of Millaca to Salvanix

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“The Words Of My Burden, Have Trouble Catching Up With Your Relief.”

Milllaca wrote this signature every day, in hope that Salvanix would read the letters of his heart. he knew he never could write in vain, for these were words too powerful to disqualify. everyday he wrote that these troubles would run very fast to the relief of a situation. he felt that Salvanix, the lady & love of his life – could never understand the true emotions his burden.

Milllaca understood his troubles could never run faster than the relief of Salvanix. therefore, he wrote to her every day the letters of his compassion and she answered them in coy smiles.

wearing fitted suits every day – Milllaca & Salvanix did this – only in public, to display their fixed attitudes on the moving galaxies around them.

Salvanix often questioned why he did things so, Milllaca always argued back and said this was just his “flow”.

living in a serene compartment to avoid the weight of the outside associations, they kept themselves schooled in acknowledging – every speaking solitude. Milllaca tightly cuffed himself within the links of his fashion.

while Salvanix fastened herself in the loose possibilities for more freedom.

however, there came a time when the perfection of each profession became far too controlled. when the time came to move from the confides of peace, the both of them moved to the wild islands of the open future ahead of them.

the colors of this island reminded them of where they both started the existence of themselves. it was something about the bright colors of the butterfly wings which carried the significance to each of them.

the rocks on this island felt more real than it did before, and Milllaca felt he would never return to the compartment of confinement again.

here he was truly free and felt comfort in his clothes being loose on his body. the freedom of the “fit” proved successful, as he could fly with Salvanix without restraint. the ropes of hesitation always flew against the wall of Salvanix’s certainty. he knew deep inside she had to fly, but flying with him would still never catch up to her relief.

Salvanix cried every night because Milllaca could never escape the signature she thought was written on the tables of confinement. as the trees listened to her tears, Milllaca became very apprehensive in the way Salvanix read his emotion. he then wrote after having conversation with the trees a new signature to his beloved Salavanix: The Words Of My Relief, Have Trouble Catching Up With Your Burden”.

Salvanix stood very still, in the silence of emotions, and looked up with intensifying realizations into Milllaca’s dark brown eyes. Milllaca knew what was required and it was unequivocally more than a signature.

remembering the fitted allegiance to the control of their galaxies, he fastened his buttons in hope for an indication that he could still exist in confinement. In tightening his cuff links, he felt a scream within the sound of each agreement that he would be leaving the bagginess behind.

Salvanix SCREAMED…”Milllaca the signature requires more than a tight fix. I’ve never disqualified freedom in confinement, but you sometimes chose to live in a way which prohibits freedom.

live inside of me and exercise your words and I will attempt to drink your burden, but you must find a way to DEMONSTRATE to me your desired relief!”

Milllaca felt the hunger in his soul roar for the relief to be shown. he knew the natural urge was correspondent to the clashing chemical reactions in the room.

the button was the body in which the thread brought life and function. the cufflinks in the same manner, were a steadfast reminder of embodied stylized finesse. these buttons and cufflinks were emblematic of freedom fighters and his ancestral history.

to Millaca, these buttons and cuff links held significant meaning as each of them carried a record of recognition. not to mention the variation of color and styles made it an always faithful tool.

Salvanix hoped to discern the meaning behind the multiple curtains drawn. the ropes and walls of certainty both at odds with each other. as, she thought of the colorful islands and memories of the butterflies found. she then gazed upon these memories and removed her frustrations by unbuttoning the inhibitors holding her back.

Millaca and Salvanix both realized the embodied signatures required to bring relief or cause burden was never unable to be solved // they only needed to communicate the will to fly or to stay at bay. words and sentences never needed to catch up, they only needed to be demonstrated by a faithful and most understood signature.

H I P ? N O ! – HIGHWAY

HIP? NO! – HIGHWAY!

who wants to ride on the hypno-highway expreSS!?
you may get there faster if you digreSS
the way of the road is seen with many warnings and FLAGS
if you are moving too fast you may be stopped for expired TAGS
for what is life but a constant stream of ticketed RAFFLES?
if you are not in line, you will be greeted by the irony that BAFFLES
there’s no knotted web without the suspension of tightly pulled STRINGS
the hitch of hypnosis will unlock rhythms of WINGS and RINGS
all of what you hear around you is a spell to prolong your ATTENTION!
this all may seem dubious but this is done as a form of PREVENTION!
take a lease out on the moment to get lost on the ROAD
YES, YOU MISSED THE STOP SIGN – WAS IT TOO MUCH OF A HEAVY LOAD?
BRACE YOURSELF – DON’T FOLD! DON’T FOLD! DON’T FOLD!
This is why you must release yourself – into Hypno-highway’s GAZE
It will set your flame ABLAZE!
For DAYZ!
Now RAISE the minimum of your DESIRE – it may fancy you a brand new ATTIRE
the WIRE? no one has to be a LIAR
when they fire another poem or slippery SPIT
i don’t know where this is going but I’m not gonna QUIT!
i’m speeding by the frame of not counting the miles per HOUR
the seeds i planted long ago have blossomed into wondrous multi-colored FLOWERS
HIP?
NO! 
you are not hip.
if you are not on the high!
for that is one way to make a YAY or NAY
if you are gonna PAY – here is the WAY!
Stray To The Hypno HighWAY

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AiVDVYnwFBI

W A T C H – I T !

H E A R D – M E?

L O O K – O U T ! 

interrupted sequence. {<system failure>} a change is necessary in order to reboot your memory bank. all of your files may not be restorable. click anywhere on the screen to begin.

every program should have its own private quarters. rooms where guests and strangers can’t enter. (input pa$$cod3)

{HIP?NO!-HI👋WAY}

Anonymous Eggs

What’s gonna crack?

Will it be the bone, glass, or the burden on my back?

The riddled shipment came on my front door, it was a packet of anonymous eggs!

By the size of them, you would think they had ostrich legs!

Maybe they were supposed to fall from an eagle onto some distant oak tree?

But, since they landed on my doorstep – they solely are for me!

Now, what the hell will I do with a basket full of hope that might turn asunder?

Damn! I just dropped them and they sounded like lightning and thunder!

Anonymous eggs are the random possibilities that may hatch or crack on our doorsteps. Who will solve the riddle? The very few who paid attention to the clues and picked up what was hanging on the coat tail, OF COURSE! (Not many :D) ‘Riddle Me That’ is my next and final project that I am releasing in a long while. I realized looking back at my videos that they have suffered due to poor quality tools. My production is evidence of old materials that are swimming to reach the shore of glistening clarity.

I also realize all of the time I put into creating a project and how much of that creative energy, can be used for a disciplined writing schedule. After all, I am in the process of writing my book and a new wave of creative juices are flowing. Also, I’d like to make room for other ways I can connect with people through community organizing. My words will remain the stage providing a foundation for something new. I’m just being real about what is looking back at me. So much work to do but so much is already coming!

We’re all sending each other anonymous eggs and some of them crack like Humpty Dumpty while others may hatch into something meaningful. Thank you to everyone who has followed along already! A huge shout out to those who are following along and are already to expand with me in this (k)new year. (All thr33 of yall!!!) As empirical as I strive to be, I somehow convince myself something will change when it’s a new year. (It’s been proven that the universe experiences no significant changes, but humans alas finds a correlation!) Ain’t nothing wrong with connecting the dots and numerology is a great way of exploring the ways x meets y. I’m still in 1999 although I was 7 at the time – here is to cracking and hatching! Once, either of them happens – ain’t much you can do besides clean up or provide cultivation for what is alive! (unless you’re boiled into a hard egg, after which you’d be as funky as ever.

Says It All In The 'Huh?

Maroon Empathy

Are we to consume the moment of inspiration the moment it hits us or when it passes away? These things happen so fast – like lightning in a mountain field – the thunder happens without our consideration. The gulf between what we are trying to say and what we should say is immense. There’s a languid disparity that seeks to fill the empty room of our fingertips. The ever so pressing desire to make sense is made a mockery when we go off topic. We are ever so silenced by the proclamation reads: “You must stay focused”. Is Focus – the only way we are able to empathize with others?

Say what you want to say but say it in time. The subjects change so rapidly just like the seasons. I suppose we need more silence and discipline. This may teach us the importance of letting go of what isn’t ours, to begin with. Memories are not always reliable currency in times of separation.

Remembering yes, but when pondering on memories too much – context is diminished at the expense of those things we selectively wish to believe. We are yet a whirlwind of contradictions that seek to provide a form of empathy. To feel the other person and to be common to their stranger association are the marks of the empath. A life of missed marks and prolonged pauses. Are we ever going to be comfortable with talking about our differences?

Concentrated Stare

What are you staring at?

Could it be my dark skin paired with beige company beside me?

What about my countenance – is it that threatening to be remembered later?

What gives you the thrill to focus so long on what’s in front of you?

Pardon all of my questions – but you don’t seem to mind answering all of where your curiosity leads.

I don’t mind if you take a look but to follow with your wandering eyes seems a bit much.

You are concentrating so much with your stare – I can literally hear what you think!

All of the assumptions and judgments, they aren’t all pleasant.

I feel it and I can see where you’re going with this.

Therefore, I’m gonna give you something absurd.

A middle finger or a twisted face.

I’m not sure yet – but the more you look – you’ll notice.

Enough to get you talking to your family at the dinner table.

I can already hear you telling them about how you saw someone so peculiar.

It’s funny how in an instant someone can become the talk of the day.

I’ve become famous already through your concentrated stare.

How highly you must think of me. To offer me such consideration in your eyes.

So you like what you see?

Even if you don’t – subconsciously your curiosity is a bit deeper than you expect.

I feel the power of your eyes – it’s pulling me like the moon.

How full your eyes are – staring into all the deepest crevices of my movement.

Your eyes are doing all the talking and I’m convinced your mouth is too shy to speak.

Don’t be shy – there’s language that rhymes with staring.

It starts with a hello and ends at: What are you looking at?

Improvisation: Share The Light

This was a special moment in which Jeremy, His Mom, and I created something magical through the lens of improvisation. It worked on so many levels and our only script – was just following the flow. It’s random, and of course, it stopped at different sections, but hence the narration of jazz. A lot of enlightenment was discovered! This video is the building blocks and blueprint for Characters In The Wind!

 

BALTIMORE – PRINCE! LISTEN NOW!

SO, I Don’t know?

In my Recent: Late Night Lucid Experiences – I was led to this.

(I got da call)

AND, I DON’T THINK IM DREAMING ANYMORE.

THIS IS LEGIT.

LISTEN AND ENJOY!

ALSO, YOU ARE MORE THAN WELCOME TO FOLLOW AND SHARE!avatars-000144828163-4o5nir-t200x200

https://twitter.com/prince3eg – I think Prince has something more to say! Follow him along with 3rdeyegirl on Twitter!

It’s pretty surreal! I’m the first person to follow him on Twitter.

What’s happening In The World?!

Birthing Cell

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Inside the birthing cell – a wave ancient connection, forms as a multitude of ancestral witnesses. 

I hear them and now my writing begins.

I’m told to write you down and here my voice is unto you.

As a witness, being there at the birth of your being.

Surrounding you are the voices of the oppressed, the selections of what is to be studied and swallowed.

A sweet taste of uniformity – neglecting not the WHOLE.

Begin to tap into your subconscious, unwind the forces of time.

An apprehension of what your belly will take your mere suggestive desire will make.

Food, and leaves that are given for peace.

Peace in which a river will follow!