"Give me the fortune, keep the fame," said my man Louis
I agreed, know what he mean because we live the truest lie
I am in a happy place. In the zone, as some may say. coasting with an air of productivity while taking it easy and going at it hard all at once. Wearing my heart on my sleeve and trying to give it my all in all that i do.
I asked him why we follow the law of the bluest eye
He looked at me, he thought about it
Was like, "I'm clueless, why?"
If at once we commit ourselves to learning something new everyday, we then find ourselves in the easy position of coming up with many unanswered questions as well. I saw a pretty good play last week at the Boston Center for the Arts (BCA); "Ronan Noone's Brendan." It was funny and serious and quite entertaining. What was most striking was the way it invoked repetition to harness an almost spiritual energy to truly capture the essence of the illusions they were trying to convey in the script. All in all, it was a great play and has rekindled my thirst for seeing more since it had been about a year since I last saw a play.
The question was rhetorical, the answer is horrible
Our morals are out of place and got our lives full of sorrow
At the very same theater, a stage adaptation of Toni Morrison's "The Bluest Eye" is on its way and I need to make my way back down there to check it out. To me, it kind of invokes the same kind of emotional turbulence that "Beloved" did, which w another novel by Morrison. A twisted and sordid tale of values, morals, deception, betrayal, love, perception, reality, and pain. If you noticed, the song I am quoting actually quotes many of the novel's themes and passages throughout its verses and chorus.
And so tomorrow coming later than usual
Waiting on someone to pity us
While we finding beauty in the hideous
I do not consider myself a good storyteller. Somehow, I have managed to skate through life thus far by stumbling over syllables and mangling my words with wandering cadences. Sometimes, I catch myself in the middle of saying something where I've forgotten what I am talking about and I have to do a mini time-out in my brain just to get ish together before I continue my sentence. Sometime it comes across as a 1 to 2 second pause; as though I am gathering thoughts. But really I am trying to figure out what the hell I am talking about. I cannot explain it much better than that. But I say all that to say that I have a true admiration for storytellers and those who have a way with words and can string sentences together with an air of precision. Yet, the craziest part of all of this is that final line is quite possibly the single most often quoted line of prose that I often recite at the drop of dime to convey a thought, counter a debate point, or commence a speech by embellishing the meaning between the lines. And if you get a chance to see Brendan, see if that ain't the case.
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