Lau de Bugs
journal
dev
1A Meditation on 24
Twenty-four
is slow, is fast, is blurry and gets lost often, in its becoming.
It has no ring to it, no newness, no uniqueness.
Everything is mundane with rabid desires and ugly hair in odd places.
Memory remains of the past and the future is yet one day at a time.
One day at a time. How much further can I look but one day at a time.
For I cannot escape the loop unless I can see it.
Where can I find questions?
How do I begin to question myself and not risk falling into myself?
Deep cuts hurt less yet much more than ever.
Can I find time to pause?
My black skin seems even darker when I look at it.
Sometimes I think it's easier to forget.
At times I figure it is much simpler to get out of my head.
There are certain selves that seem so elusive.
Can we fix those parts that are worn out?
Who I am and who I think I am are two worlds apart.
But I walk that thin line between hope and fear,
In 100 years perhaps I will have mastered the art of high-wire artistry,
No longer needing these doubts that seem to fuel my demise.
Going back one step back to take two steps forward.
Yellow birds across the sky – turn to grey dust and fade away.
Just a single amen can save a soul.
Under which pressures will I bow?
XOXO