Some days I feel like things have become too serious and people have forgotten how to have fun. Some days I run myself tired pouring energy into the wrong subjects, others I don't put enough into the right. Some days I lack compassion and everyday, empathy. Some days I find myself on a path that leads nowhere but one that still has everything I need. Some days feel brand new like the plastic has just been removed. Everyday should feel brand new but sometimes I feel like I've seen this all before, with plastic over my eyes and mouth trying to breathe deep, I travel an extra mile or three to realize saints didn't have it easy, hurricanes come and go like smiles on playgrounds but on good days they come more than they go when everything isn't taken so seriously, I mean smiles not hurricanes but those come too and should be taken seriously. Some days I feel like everyone has become too worried, other days I think it's me. I correct myself about 45 times a day in order not to offend anybody. Everyday the flesh is weak but the mind is strong when it's self-regulated and not ruled by another mans thoughts, or woman, or affiliation, or energy, or vibe, etc. Some days I feel like we loose too much control to others, tying nooses around our necks for some that don't even know our names, what's the key to the madness that unlocks doors hidden inside? Some days the walls are built too high, and some days it sucks to climb. Some days I feel like I can feel the fire coming, in my mind we're in hell and most days I just want to inhale and not care. When did things become so serious and people forget how to have fun? Some days I think about that a lot, others I'm too busy smiling.
Over the past few years I've changed locations multiple times. Now on the eve of another move, I began to think about how each has elevated me creatively. Each city/state becomes a blank canvas, and the possibilities of what's to come is not only exciting, but endless.
When I turned 10 years old I finally got my own room. Being not only the youngest of three children, but most importantly the only boy, my own room was the greatest thing ever. My parents realized the interest I put into creating (I drew in class, church, at home, on the bus, on walls, on anything I could get my hands on). Eventually they allowed me to turn my room into a hub exclusively for my imagination. My mom actually let me paint a mural on the wall with left over house paint, and my dad also let me hang one of his paintings (which was extremely rare). Then I started hanging my own work. When the time came for us to move out of that house, I was crushed. I had recently turned 17, and losing the space I felt most comfortable in wasn't fun, not one bit. I felt as though I left a huge part of myself in that room. For years after the move I remained in a shell, and lost all desire to create. I needed a space I felt comfortable in to do what I loved to do, which was create. By 18 creating was on the back burner as I bounced from one location to the next, trying to find a place to settle and just live. Sports always came natural to me, so eventually I ended up playing football in college. Living with up to 12 other players at a time, in a three bedroom apartment, it was too easy to lose myself behind a mask. Times I felt the want to create, which were rare, I would attempt to travel back to that room where creating was second nature to me, but nothing ever happened. At 18, I couldn't see how being uncomfortable was valuable. 19 through 24 yielded the same thoughts, but I soon realized losing my comfortability was best creatively.
In that room, I was able to lock out anyone or anything I didn't agree with. The comfort I built up allowed me to escape, but also create a trap for myself. I loved what I was doing, but looking back I realize I created from what was around me, and from seeing the same stuff all I did was recreate the same things over and over. Losing that comfort zone forced me to lose a hold on the locational contentment I was fostering, and I found comfort within. The locational discomfort became inspiring, and the comfort within became my peace. Finding that peace opened my eyes to the opportunities a location has to offer instead of shunning it. Let's see whats to come...
Where do you feel most comfortable creating?
I found life on the other side of moon. I was whisked away from a life I vaguely remember at the age of eight. One of the only things I remember is my mother's voice as she would hold me up in front of the kitchen sink window as a baby singing, "this little light of mine...". The entire world belonged to us and only us then, and nothing can take those moments away from us. Besides those moments everything else is a figment of my imagination. I can't remember anything about who I was, my first name, last name, I don't even have an idea of what my parents faces even look like. False images made to feel true, who I am was put together in the unknown, and who I am is Tubi.
"If you never turned around would you always be prepared for the future or unaware of what's to come?", Master Tubi quietly whispered to his students. Only a class of three, these where the top warriors from around the land. They come to Master Tubi to learn from one of the greatest unknown masters. The story of Master Tubi is unknown because he has never reveled where he comes from. He rarely speaks of himself, always about what's to come. With a cloud of alluring mystery around him, everything about Tubi has become legendary myth. Many say he was a light that appeared from the dark on a quiet night in town. Some say he's the half son of an ancient warrior and a healing Goddess. Others believe that he was his parents blood sacrifice into the, "I Society", but every attempt to end his life at a young age failed and only after the third failed attempt Tubi escaped into the unknown.
I watched time pass sitting alone in caves drinking rain water. I fell in love with self over the years in the dark. I couldn't see much when I looked around but with deep breathes and closed eyes an open mind showed me another side of life. Meditation was all I had. It was everything I looked forward to. It helped me gain the power needed to survive in the unknown. I learned all I knew from the images displayed inside my mind; still aware of my surroundings, the unknown. So many things disappeared from mind during this time of my life. But I felt at home, alone in the dark, finding light.
"Master Tubi, why don't you ever tell us where you've come from?", a student asked. "Does where I've come from matter to where we're going? From the looks of it, I see no evidence of truth in that. What I see are minds concerned with the past and not enough with the future, but if you must know, I'm from the unknown.", Master Tubi responded. Each student let out a huge sigh as the answer from Tubi was once again what they've heard from him each time they've asked before hand. "If there is any fear that we wouldn't understand or accept your past Master Tubi, that is false", a student uttered with his head down. "My past isn't for you to understand or accept, once you realize that you'll realize that we are sitting here together today, for a reason. A reason bigger than the unknown where I've come from. A reason bigger than us both, but are you ready to let go of thoughts of the old to build a new?", Master Tubi ask his students.
A lost place of love is all I've known for years. I watched time pass alone in the trees as the winds whispered Mother Nature's secrets in my ear. I fell in love with her then and still in love with her now. She was all I knew, all I looked forward to. She was my everything, my life source. She lifted me when I felt too weak to walk. When food was low she fed me. This bond with you is one I can never let go of, Mother Nature.
Days passed as Master Tubi sat alone in his room in silence. He woke all of his students up one morning before the dark had completely rolled away and the light had taken its place. He sat up tall with his legs crossed and began to speak, "I can tell you more about where I am not from than where I'm from. The place where greed, lust, and sin meet and breed offspring to finish the destructive plans set for this world by their parent's parents. The place where dreams go to die and nightmares feed off the ash.", Master Tubi stood up and walked to the furthest window in his villa. He signaled to one of his students to bring him some tea. He sipped slow and gazed out the window as if his next words were being shown to him in the clouds. "We must escape this rock and build our own. The city I've come from is called Dou. I went back after years away to find our home on the corner of Fear Ave. and Fucking Fear Dr., where fear and pain seeped from the gutters and found itself planted on top of milk crates selling moon rocks and spewing lyrics about the life they lead and one they hope to live. They picked on kids who don't believe in same, and used words to shame the righteous. That city wasn't built for everyone, more evident in the decayed buildings and abandon houses. I slept in those houses the first few nights after capture had taken place. I lost all hope and figured I was living in Hades so I had to find a way to escape. Yes it's true my father a strong warrior was captured by the, "I Society", and my mother was never seen again. I eventually escaped into the mountains. I needed the unknown as the unknown needed me. I needed to gain the power needed to build a empire strong enough to dismantle the city of Dou and destroy the "I Society". This was the first time ears got a chance to hear Master Tubi reveal anything about where he was from or wasn't, and also his plans to build anew. "A world in the clouds", Master Tubi uttered, "a world in the clouds."
To be continue...
Death to philosophy and hello truth, the tumble of thoughts cascading the streets as if similar emotions weren't felt. We've watched blood shed in the back of houses and covered up wounds with Luther King's dream, spent backwards in attempts to catch up, but spin backwards every time we get paid, I feel underwhelmed in a world where it's ok to comprise soul to get paid, thoughts shouldn't feel this old, toes shouldn't be so cold, tip toeing heaven and hell, light on the dark side of a paper plane trying to make it home, smoke in the wind off the mind of Socrates, bullet holes in the back of the heels of Achilles, be a nightmares dream, a removed spleen in the body of life, take, eat, remembering everything you learned and forgot in the pews of churches, seats, chairs, down a isle, married to the thought of revolution and death to pupated Kings, don't know truth if it's code name is philosophy, neurological refrain from the diseased, get closer to life, far from deceased. Get closer to life, far from philosophy...
Don't overthink, live
The Mind of the Traveling Poet is a collection of poems collected over years of travels to different locations.Read More