" sing a song "

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erratic movements, loud clanks and reverb in the darkness. green laser-beams and red pinhole lights sway and jerk in moments along the walls of a certain spastic geometry.

we are raucous chaotic vibration. snacks and alcohol strewn about the table. tomes of songs with the remote wrapped in plastic. tambourines & jodeci/mariah dreams. the microphone has a safety health cover on it "just in case," but just in case of what?

it's 7pm, 8pm, midnight, 1am. the night becomes a beautiful blur. this is cheaper than therapy; it is my therapy. this is my release; i am free. elvis looks on from a static portrait. he blesses us with his immortal crooked smile. the night goes from young to endless, and we ride the tunes raw until we are asked to leave.

this is poetry in motion.

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—- 
 joyful raucous screaming and shrieks and laughter and cooing are heard with crystalline clarity as they travel the invisible line of brain-reaction-throat-mouth-tongue-teeth-lips-air-ear-brain-body-soul-ether. 
 brilliant lights gleam through pinholes in a rainbow of motorized beams, flickering and flitting past our closed eyelids. 
 there is nothing like this. there are many things like this. 
 each moment is pure trajectory from weighted to anti-gravitational. our songs are heard, our spirits soar, and each one of us has a private delight made public. 
 —-

—-

joyful raucous screaming and shrieks and laughter and cooing are heard with crystalline clarity as they travel the invisible line of brain-reaction-throat-mouth-tongue-teeth-lips-air-ear-brain-body-soul-ether.

brilliant lights gleam through pinholes in a rainbow of motorized beams, flickering and flitting past our closed eyelids.

there is nothing like this. there are many things like this.

each moment is pure trajectory from weighted to anti-gravitational. our songs are heard, our spirits soar, and each one of us has a private delight made public.

—-

"sandy echo"

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four days later, and many on the mend. so many upsetting strange and curious occurrences, it's hard to fully process it all.

i feel like i've seen the best of people, the worst of people, and every shade in between, in these last handful of days.

looking for the words sometimes is difficult, and the words do not manifest. looking for meaning in things that need no definition, or how we find ourselves confronted with the quality of your morals in regimented moments.

people are most definitely getting through, and on the mend. i myself have had no way to return yet to my very necessary physical therapy, but when confronted with crisp reality, i walked 15 miles to and from work.

we make do, and improvise when we need to get through the day.

and in the end, at the first glimmers or a returned transportation service and while many many civil servants were hitting their stride, i found a moment of complete solace in one single frame of 120.

we can never know how important our daily craft means until it suddenly shows that it can be your moment of therapy as well as creativity. we will have to wait until the lab i frequent is back up and running to see if the frame came out, but the experience is now seared into memory as a blissful one despite the weather and formidable circumstances.

tonight's homework:

count your blessings, be present and active in what you're drawn to do, help out when you can, and remember to take a moment for yourself.

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