Critical

I love the night. Usually the only time where the tempo is at our whim, sweet becking call. Our choosing, destiny. And creatively..pursuing objectives that would never stand during the torrid pacing of most days. Too much to deal with being lame. Frailties and desires, corrupted by the laments of times.. Love or sex? Some decisions are a split hair between peace and buoyancy or drama and horror in space of oversold, too bold, or timid dreams.

Authenticity and urgency are ingredients you must have to make magnificence otherwise it’s all false opulence. Critical to know how to hold on… or be swayed by false intimacies…..

Day by day, most of us live in ways in which it’s always tempting to break while settling on wake and bake. Constant looking for validation and salutations wasting energy and so much precious time…it’s critical to know to switch gears, baby. Stay off your laurels and know when to get deep in….

Rhymes and reasons, each season. No one will join in pity…have to keep it gritty. Critical.to dig deep or sink in the lull….insular thinking is painfully wreathed in bad thoughts ….and years on the weird.