Is it possible, that my soul expects the inevitable disappointment of life? Living so fully, extending my arms to any bits of information that may enrich me has ended up decaying the space between my ribs. I question the very existence of my being, dive head first into the abyss of understanding, when do I not have time to experience? The bitter resentment and cadence of life has swung into full motion. My hair has not even turned grey and I look into the past. I understand that decisions must be made, I understand that the present matters, but I feel like I keep on hitting rewind on that favorite record. I keep on forgetting to tie my shoe laces. I know where the loop ends. I’m sure I know where love comes from. Love is not Hollywood. I managed to overcome stereotypes and fallacies every day, a great boyish smirk follows. But what now, after all is said and done, that I’ve found my Mecca, my Wall. The moments leading up to the self-discovery of my path, does it not make me shed a tear? I know full well that the logical path that previous elders have talked about is upon me. But, I am an elder, yet my hair is black. I can jump, I’m not in a wheel chair. Why was I cursed by being literate? Why did you make me love life so much that I have to live the rest in a circuit? Instill ignorance into me, it’s not too late. Tell me the speech that every man has to hear. Make sure that women don’t hear it. Abstraction doesn’t exist. It’s all in front of us, live with the beast. The beast machine we call our minds. I can’t recall what made me think this but thus far, I agree with myself. I have learned to love myself and others, why won’t my bones rot all ready? Make me live up until that fleeting moment, when the sun barely broke through the purple waters. When that wind froze my neck up on that mountain I conquered. Keep me in a different type of machine, where I can smile and glorify other creations that have nothing to do with me.