April 2, 2012

I can feel it coursing through my veins.

It starts at the bottom.
My toes feel the warm sensation and start to tickle. The urge to move becomes overwhelming and a tapping begins. The beat is steady and concise. It is inaudible to most not paying attention, but to me I feel as though I am beating on a steel drum being playing into a microphone.

Then it shifts to the legs.
My knees suddenly feel unable to lock in place. I must bend them and set them free. At first I do not know if I can trust their movements. Somehow both legs can flow independently and still work together as a unit to support my frame.

The stomach is next.
I can only imagine that this is how one feels after being reunited with a long lost lover. The butterflies start fluttering, sending my stomach into a natural yet uneasy feeling. A ball of energy is forming. I can feel it start to radiate down my arms, to my fingertips, then return to the midsection. It has nowhere to go but up.

There is a pounding in the chest.
Somehow my heart's beat seems to slow and quicken simultaneously. There is no feeling of joy, pain, sadness, or stress, just the calming feeling of fully observing this natural phenomenon. There is a tightening in the chest followed by a complete and utter relaxation as it takes over control. It is almost complete.

The head is the last stop.
It works together with the brain to send electrical currents relaying how to feel back to the rest of the body. The ear drums get the most pleasure. A sweet humming beings in the cochlea and vibrates down my ear canal and rests on top of my tongue until it is ready to be released. All the while my brain is going crazy soaking it all in at once. There is never too much to be absorbed.

What I feel is music. It surrounds me, embraces me, and ultimately engulfs me completely.

Go get your dreams
They aren't going anywhere besides wherever you're going
Because I told myself tomorrow
And now tomorrow is yesterday

May 28, 2009

I hate this place
more than anyone's words
could possibly describe. The smell
overtakes my nose and works its way into
my brain, where it is burned into my memory forever.
Just  the  atmosphere  of one segregated  part of my life  has
the tendency to make my skin crawl. It feels as though debt, shame and
unanswered questions are burrowing through my body and taking
over my soul at the same time. It is an understatement to say I
don't fit in here. I feel like the black duck trying to fit in with a
family of white geese. This place is the reason for my hatred
of anything traditional, the reason for my desperate
attempt at being unique. Who would guess I come
from a place so barren, so *****, so
empty? A place of constant
attack and scrutiny
and  yet,   this
is  home. This
place  is where
chapters of my
history   have
been  written.
So  many  of
my tales have
------------------------------------------------------------­-------------------------------------------------
been  etched   into
these     walls.    This   is
where my   unlikely         fairy tale begins.
This place             keeps          me safe            and
always  saves                      room for               me at the
table.                    These are my roots.                  My support
system                         that always                    keeps me                anchored.