Reflections in the AFTERNOON SUN

Greetings...Bon Jour...Ca va
What goes on in and around my mind...tends to be reflected in the music that the shuffle tends to bring up in an around the house.

FAITH...in one of her finest.  Hmmm...PURE playlist.

I am not certain that people always believe I am the person I profess to be and to be BECOMING...better yet!  However, I come to be and I...I wonder if it isn't unsettling for some that I am.  I am equally curious just how much I should care.  LoL  I suppose...if I am in someone's house..living with...inhabiting their space...then  I suppose.  While it is cute...and gives me a giggle...my want...at the end of the day...is to show appreciation to Curtis for extending the space...and NOT offend My Boy!

That said...we gotta' get some Nag Champa...it is right downstairs at the over-priced Organic Spot...lol.

I am splayed out on the floor of the living room...about to step to the window and finish my blunt.  Harlem out the window and HUGHES on the brain.  Those twists of his brain...brought on, no doubt, because of his travels and subsequent returns to Harlem.  The inevitable comparisons to what is considered "proper" society and His own Negro Community had to be at the least curious and at the greatest AWFULly shocking.  I find myself understanding the ...seeming...indifference THOSE who have traveled treat NYC with now.  It's function is TRANSITORY...as I guess SHE is geared for...or so she is being SHAPED for at the moment.

The LOVE is still there...present, HOWEVER, this time I walk...with and not under...at the foot of..or anything of the like.  THIS TIME...despite everything to the contrary...I am doing my damndest to LIVE-IN and LOVE NYC...smartly.  I gotta' get a foothold on my finances, so I am actually making THIS work.

I am...FEEEEEELIN' something...in my giggle these days.  A warmth...a heat a strength a wanting...a yearning...I have seen the shifts...notice the angle twists playing-out in my face THESE DAYS.  Like My Hands Before-Me...My Skull reflects LIFE-AdMinistered Bumps Lumps Chunks Whittles and Whisps, an occasional Stitch or ten.

I am used to it...or at least that is what I like to believe.  I am certain that I have retained some residual something...in terms of insecurity.  However, I can't call it.  Just my voice.

I am going to get ready to bear my head to the sun.

Abientot