A vile, wretched word spawned from malignant tounges.
The word “lonely” has siblings birthed from tortured thought.
I sit in this space, solitarily—the only one of my kind—an anomalous subject without any action predicated upon.

I am.
I am only lonely when I don’t complete the thought. I am not separate from the stars. I am not separate from the cosmos. All separation is illusory.

There is only one thing. There is only GOD. Therefore no thing can exist apart from its source. All materials we use for mass production are natural. A car is no more or less indigenous than an apple sprout from a tree. The material is of earth and, therefore, natural. Metal is just as much nature as is oxygen.

Earth, too, is an arbitrary limitation. If a vehicle were constructed from a meteor via some celestial body, it would be no less a part of what makes me, me.

Carbon-based material is merely a fraction of what I am. I am a body, yes. But I am not only a body, just as a body is not merely an arm.

As a concession, there is value in ascribing limitations to things.
In communication, the consensus is to separate everything in an attempt to operate on a common level. Ex: “There is a cat in the driveway.”
The subject: ‘cat’ has to be separate from the noun ‘driveway’ so the reader can differentiate between the two.
Separation is utilized to express.
In my opinion, separation is utilized too express.
Separation is utilized to excess.

Comfort is in the infinite/inherent oneness of all.

Loneliness is illusory.

Loneliness is separation taken too far.

The Tale of Two States

There are always at least two options when dealing with any decision.

The license to look pessimistically or optimistically is a superpower no one can steal from you. The attitude you hold when making any decision is always up to you.
If you were to find a $20 bill at random without anyone to claim it, you could rejoice at the unplanned financial increase, or you can lament because had you found the $20 earlier, you wouldn’t have had to eat only ramen noodles for the last three days.

Your approach to how the world works is your personal philosophy.

Is the world out to get you, or do you get to choose your adventure on this floating sphere of gravitated water and rock?

Since our lives are largely collaborative, we get to yield and compromise with others in choosing our adventures. For example, if we awoke this morning in a building, chances are we didn’t build it ourselves. There were others who contributed to the design, and the plumbing. More than likely, we are in a particular agreement with the governing energy/electrical company, which supplies you with utilities of convenience.
With this and other collaborations, we are not complete makers of our environment, but there are no such collaborations regarding your way of thinking, your perspective.
That is 100% yours.
And as such, you have the choice on a second-by-second basis to steer your thoughts to any place you desire. Whether a situation is good or bad or if you would rather not judge the situation at all, that is entirely within your power to do so.

At the time of writing this, I am 36, single, living in Long Beach, California, and would like very much to come home to my best friend. To have a best friend with whom I can share this life.
Post cancer medical bills are expensive, California is costly, COVID is inconvenient, and isolation is familiar.
If I choose to, I could bring myself to tears by enumerating the reasons for sadness. Or, I can adjust my focus without denying or invalidating the not-so-pleasant events in my life.

I am in sunny California. A state I admired as a kid while watching shows like Saved By The Bell and movies like Last Action Hero. I am alive. I have a job that supplies me with the monetary compensation to purchase necessities and desires. I have beautiful friends who have even better personalities.

There are always at least two options when facing any decision. The option to look upon things with possibility or limit yourself by only seeing negativity.

I’m Late

I’m late, but I trust these words are heard in time. Difficult though it is to compose prose together through letters and by rhyme.
It’s been soo long since I’ve strung the string of song; since I’ve sat down to write about my life… …what’s right now and who’s left to be wrong.

I am 33 and exactly where I am meant to be. I am defeating cancer and still seeking fresh answers to who I am mint to be.
Looking forward toward being lymphoma-free, hearing congratulations upon my graduation exercising my diplomacy.
My life is an ever-evolving thing. The only constant is that I am a consummate revolving being.

Thirty-three instead of 16 bars. Snickering/loudly whispering proudly sweet somethings into indiscriminate stars.

Thinking of Thought

Manifestation is practiced daily because words are spoken every day—what more excellent way to experience manifestation than speaking? Think about a word. It’s in your imagination; then you coordinate all of these factors: lungs, vocal cords, saliva, tongue, jaw, lips & various others, all to make imagination into sound waves. Those sound waves then crash into your auditory receptors, which interprets that information/energy into a concept.

Mental Musings

We’re all infinitely everything and the space between us is merely imaginal and performative.

We’re all manifesting in pockets of thoughts in the multiplicity of possibilities. If a idea is ideal, is pleasurable…pick, focus and live THAT by dwelling in it.

I am all of the “data dump,” the cellular information that has been passed through generations of my forbears. I am the information code immensely more complex than the most recently designed and technologically advanced tools mankind has ever made. I am genetic memory, “experience code,” the record of procreated humans. Aligned or in an ineffable way attached to the lineage (although it’s not a traditional lineage because there is no solid time). I am experiencing ancestral legacy in sync with past ancestors and those with which I am a past ancestor.

I am not only a strong biological code. I AM is also ALL experiencing itself through it’s creation. I AM is experience incarnate. Thought is consciousness. Consciousness is ALL. I AM is the conception of all. I AM is the conceiver of all.

There isn’t spirit vs flesh. It’s that the spirit is the flesh, Just at a denser vibration. Our bodies are a form of consciousness too. Everything is. That’s how existence works. The mechanics of the universe is cooperation. Quantum. Creation interacting with itself because there is nothing but self. All of life is imaginary because the Imaginer conceives of it all.

We’re all pretending for ourselves. There is no separation. All is a play we entertain ourselves with. We are all 1.

Why don’t we publicly speak about how WILD and amazing it is that there exists ANYTHING at all? Existence is an anomaly, if approached from a purely physical perspective. Existence is futile, if approached from a purely spiritual perspective. A marriage between the two is needed to be effective in either.

Take your hands off

Breathing. It’s an action I can shift from automatic to manual. But when I consciously take control, it becomes a task, laborious and less efficient. When I take my “hands” off of it, when I resolve to trust that process which has always proven to work, I am operating a body which takes in oxygen at the exact rate in which this body needs.

Of course, I reserve the ability to increase or decrease the intake and output at any desired moment.

So, much like the process of inhalation and exhaling, is life & my desires.

Because I AM is God, whatever God wants, God receives. It’s an immutable fact unless of course, God wants to continue to want something. At which point God will never attain it because the act of wanting is more desirable than attainment.

In essence, desiring a thing is pleasant. The attainment of a thing desired compounds the pleasure. The way to attainment is by allowing it to happen via desire then, taking my hands off of it while moving confidently in the direction of it, being surrounded by my answer.

I’m a Professional At Crasting the Nation

Okay, so that title is stupid.

But I like it.

I figured I’d allow myself the freedom to write by not being OBLIGATED to find the perfect title, the most amazing topic or the ideal…anything.

I won’t be so hard on (giggidy) myself and just do. Often times I get so in my head about how I would look, how I might come off (giggidy) that I’d stop myself from doing a thing before I’d even start. I’ve had a ton…well maybe not a ton..more like pounds. I’d have pounds of ideas which I never initiated because I wanted to find a “more better” version or I couldn’t imagine being seen as someone who isn’t as polished as I envision myself to be.

F*@& that guy! I’m not perfect and I’m going to ‘fail’ a heap more times. What I put out there won’t be perfect. It won’t be the best I can EVER do. I am going to continue to grow, learn and outgrow what I’ve previously done. But the worst thing I can do is to not do anything at all.

So if you’re reading this, let’s make a pact! I will give you room to grow, mature and fail into the person who you wish to be and you do the same for me, yea?

<With the stipulation that we can’t be shitty on purpose. If either one of us sees that the other is content with being a shitty version of themselves with no active & comparable steps toward greatness…then pact retracted>


It’s 5 AM on a crisp Tuesday morning in Crawford, Georgia. I’ve resolved to get up before the sun in order to be more than what I was. I’ve known for some time now that I have a shit ton of more “can” in me.

I CAN be more personable in my interactions. I CAN be more consistent in my writings. I CAN be more of a creator (as opposed to just a consumer). I CAN be more present in my life.

During my bout with cancer, I told myself that when I get passed it, I would live more. That I would take more chances & stop hiding behind a veneer of “I’ve got time”. I bartered my creativity, my mind, the core of who I am; all in exchange for more opportunities to breathe this air, walk on this soil & experience this time.

In a sense, I bargained with God.

As a result, I feel obligated to do something worthwhile with these constant gifts of 24 hours.

According to the bargain I made/the jargon I’ve laid, the debt I paid is living creatively. A tit-for-tat, a this for that, not completely unlike blackmail. I’ll take these gifts of breath, wrap ’em in content & depth because constant monotonous nonsense is death. An extraordinary life is what’s next for this black male.

It all started…

Okay, everyone has an origin story. The villain has a reason why she/he creates chaos & the hero has a purpose for trying to maintain peace. The collection of thoughts & composites of creativity I deposit here will serve as somewhat of a reference point for future use.

Whether I am viewed as a hero, villain or something in-between…that’s not for me to judge. I just know, I won’t be average.

I’m not cut out for it

How I Beat Cancer's Ass…& Other Beat Downs