thought 15

sometimes. a lot of the times. i tell myself. i remind myself. t, do something more. the more-complex. the more-aspect. comes with an overcoming melancholy of being tied-down, through loops and structures. limitations of intelligence, right moves, the right chance. to cause the change. it is like a row against the trilogy of determination, of aspiration, of diagnosis of the self. what are the things i would love to want? a completion, a closure. it agitates my soul, sometimes, to think of accomplishments. am i absurd to rethink how i define a life purpose, a life goal a life reach. it is like a grip. a grab. over and above to a vehement outsource. a resource din. to mobilize change. to cause change. and like money, it's cumulative capacity, is there an endpoint, a threshold, a pinnacle of satisfaction to the domain of charity? the purpose of my life will NOT be a fat paycheck. i live by the Wall. walk through miles and miles of beautiful brownstones, opulence and extravagance, stardom and fame. trickery and economics. build and rise in the pit of the worlds center of procurements and bills. L. said to me...i go places to check if my apartment is nicer than my friends. a McKinsey consultant, suited in allurement. this is the lifestyle that befits a plethora of my shimmering city. a competitive streak in trade and sell, in lies and dope, in between the smoke and flexibility of the accounts. not my life, never mine. a broad delirium roused and doused on the wheels, the mechanics, the fulcrum of a social revolution. to say breathe on the soil of a vapid course, to instigate, to re-expunge a doleful agony. to revolve, and evolve, to unearth and un-sheath, to molt a wax tragedy of the civilizing, the tantalizing, the titillating reconnaisance of a nervous experiment. in death, in remorse, groups after groups, souls and soils in your lands and ours, on the riverside, come to a pause. come to a frustration of an inability to rise above the predicament of bare-necessity. what survival-vantage you have and purvey, drifts from the society at a mile. at a distance, there is the need to fight. there is a need to sew together a hope for the hopeless, the real hopeless. not the wiggling Wall-er banking from count to count. that is a mere repository of complaint that stretches to a deep abysmal. to have a non-deterrent, concurrent goal. concrete in its skeleton, reconstructed, unpulverized, undisguised. this is a core desire. step 1 rolling, step 2 falling, step 3 is a dream filter of the copious twins and pairs of languishing souls, of bleeding wounds, of fading hearts. let us all, one by one, you and i, and i alone, bring hope and love through songs and dance, through heart and love, through peace and smile, deliverance and confidence of a Braille miracle of dots and phrases and jargons and gerunds of a dream cycle, of a love cycle, a valentine ballet tulle, a fluorescent tide, a beam gazing, hungry, mystery myth of an orphan heart. to rebuild a man, to rebuild a love, to rebuild a hope, to rebuild a smile, in origami arts and craft of life, in souls and trills of real and trues, in hues of green and smiles of blue, one by one, in song and love, i want to give, as much i may, to the rehearsal of a life.