Obscene Minimalism

A New Community      I want to live in a community where the graffiti speaks social commentaries that are hard to decipher to basserbyers, but speak worlds to those that know the scene. i want to live in a community where peoples curbsides act like twenty-four hour dumpsters dives for garage sale seekers to springboard furniture needs. Where creative expression is the only form of currency and not a soul is going hungry.
     I want to live in a community where drips of paint and loose bricks become photographic documentaries of the ever changing air, rather than circled with proverbial yellow paint, slated only for fixation and awaiting repair. Where red x's on trees and rust on street signs act as accents to a mentality so alive even the rocks can smell it.
     The silence that walks the streets gets muffled by pea soup like thoughts and dreams about screaming out desires. you can feel it, like a bee's wing streaming past me, brushing up against, alerting that- there is in fact, something in the air.
     I will find this community, in my mind and in the mentalities of others wishing to move to these same streets. Point me towards the path where a light gleams in the distance, just enough for me to see where i am going...
-don’t worry, ill find my way
Stale air      I gasp for breath as creative energy takes place of oxygen. i struggle to keep my lungs filled and watch for somebody to provide me with enough air to keep me alive. Unable to breath in this suburban mentality i choke on stale air, hook up the life support before my creative veins turn blue.
     My heart beats deep with rage from the stage i find myself in, the fire inside burns brighter as i refuse to conform to new energy types. i must extend sights onwards with eyes like a hawk, stretch my neck above this smog of stale eyes unable to see the things i am trying to find.
     Must be the air in this town, point me in the direction of a new sound so i may find the fuel for my desires and end this drought.
Bitterness envelopes me      I believe this year peaked in mid august, in it's pristine peace, freedom and beauty. Now, with all this shattered and returned back to the dream state i knew it was, things seem bland in comparrison. Now i fight to get some glimpse of this far off dream again, only to have everything else seem to be standing in my way.
     I wish everything to leave me be and to posses the freedom to search again for this future that i've see myself in. There is no greater longing than to reach what i have experienced as perfect.
     Like the coming of winter i feel the coldness coming on, knowing it will only take time for the warmth to return. I grit my teeth and push forwards, seeking the sunlight gleaming though to open the door to some kind of pathway to peace.
   Bitterness envelopes me.
"life is the only answer to death, if you're do not doing one, you are moving closer to the other"
"wise men see significance in suffering"
"I will leave no stone unturned in my search for beauty, for it will even be in the stones themselves that i will find it"
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