This world would have been better discovered flat. Time passes, and all we do is wait for the day to end. We keep ourselves busy with menial tasks, such as office work, house cleaning, meetings, traffic, internet, and things we consider make our lives "busy." We physically tire ourselves to the point where at the end of the 9-5 schedule, what we have left for is another few hours of traffic and a meal, follow by a lethargic state of television watching and zoning out. I have to ask myself, "Is this why I wanted to grow up?" Or have I just become afraid to be an individual, to remove "fear" from the media we are so entangled in, to lead rather than to follow, to play the drum beat of a different rhythm, to think like a dream, and to believe in my worth. Some days, I forget that I am supposed to be contributing to society, but what do I have that makes it worthwhile for others? Who is this? This artist who is never satisfied, the musician who holds back the words just because, the dreamer who thinks he is alone in it all...repeating it over and over again, that someday I would become something more. From most point of views, it seems hopeless. There is the cyclical battle; the beginning is the end and it never changes. We repeat it, without haste, without thought, without memory. We are trapped in our own demise, repeating the strain until our bodies tire. This is the current state of my world that I watch on a daily basis. And these people do not know I watch them,; they never speak to one another, removing "hello" from their vocal vocabulary, until they step in front of a computer, to reveal they are LOL and create simulated smiles and witty internet slang. And I wonder, does it even matter to be human? Does it make sense that we have neighbors? or coworkers? Does it matter that the world is a sphere or a circle if I took its circumference?
The importance of the circle...what does the shape really mean, and how can we define the shape to help us discover why the Earth was once considered to be flat. There is so much out there in the world, in the city, and in our mind. Our bodies are not flat, our brain is not flat. Our voices are not flat. There is so much to discover, but so little time because we are so "busy." And of course to be busy in one's life, means their life is much richer and full. Is this the truth you would rather believe? Then believe that the world is flat, like your mother board on your computer. It may have the capacity to store lots of things, but it will never have the rhythm of a beating heart, a fluctuating laugh, a intimate conversation, or a shoulder to cry on. We draw many circles, but I choose to draw spirals.
Rather than looked down upon, the circle from my vantage point is a spiral that moves along a path occupying the same circular trajectory, remembering what was halo-ing above, and moving forward towards a new direction. It is this spiral figure that has me to believe my destination, albeit unknown, will always take me to the roads less traveled and to worlds undiscovered. I follow only this spiral path. I maybe afraid to travel it, but at least the fear is one that is personal and my own to conquer, and not the fear that makes this current world, flat.
I wrote "Consciousness of Gravity" traveling on the spiral. I wrote it alongside memories from 9/11 and its ongoing discovery of truth.
This song was written as the siren voice that beckoned those who felt the sweltering heat from atop the man-made mountain of steel, which was no match for our fragile skins, our listless hair, our bones. Even the loud loud cries, the sweating foreheads that mixed with the tears following, could not overcome the smoke that would engulf their lungs and wipe out their sound. The only savior that was truth, was Gravity. It saved them. I can remember the images of a falling figure. I imagined that for a few seconds, the person felt the breeze of the wind clearing their throats and blowing their tears from their tired faces. They took in the world into the busy streets of New York City among their paper and office supplies following suit.
Today I question the truth of building another structure to replace the old ones. I have never believe in rebuilding. You can't rebuild a life. Build a cemetery before you build a rat trap. Why not comfort the ghosts that linger before you build the money boxes that took the towers down in the first place? From what I sense, to return back to this center, this circle that people have spun around for years, would take a tornado that would exist in the big apple; which god speed would be the only force that could take my breath away and return to me what was lost, the honesty of man and his want to be listened to.
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This world would have been better discovered flat. Time passes, and all we do is wait for the day to end. We keep ourselves busy with menial tasks, such as office work, house cleaning, meetings, traffic, internet, and things we consider make our lives "busy." We physically tire ourselves to the point where at the end of the 9-5 schedule, what we have left for is another few hours of traffic and a meal, follow by a lethargic state of television watching and zoning out. I have to ask myself, "Is this why I wanted to grow up?" Or have I just become afraid to be an individual, to remove "fear" from the media we are so entangled in, to lead rather than to follow, to play the drum beat of a different rhythm, to think like a dream, and to believe in my worth. Some days, I forget that I am supposed to be contributing to society, but what do I have that makes it worthwhile for others? Who is this? This artist who is never satisfied, the musician who holds back the words just because, the dreamer who thinks he is alone in it all...repeating it over and over again, that someday I would become something more. From most point of views, it seems hopeless. There is the cyclical battle; the beginning is the end and it never changes. We repeat it, without haste, without thought, without memory. We are trapped in our own demise, repeating the strain until our bodies tire. This is the current state of my world that I watch on a daily basis. And these people do not know I watch them,; they never speak to one another, removing "hello" from their vocal vocabulary, until they step in front of a computer, to reveal they are LOL and create simulated smiles and witty internet slang. And I wonder, does it even matter to be human? Does it make sense that we have neighbors? or coworkers? Does it matter that the world is a sphere or a circle if I took its circumference? 
The importance of the circle...what does the shape really mean, and how can we define the shape to help us discover why the Earth was once considered to be flat. There is so much out there in the world, in the city, and in our mind. Our bodies are not flat, our brain is not flat. Our voices are not flat. There is so much to discover, but so little time because we are so "busy." And of course to be busy in one's life, means their life is much richer and full. Is this the truth you would rather believe? Then believe that the world is flat, like your mother board on your computer. It may have the capacity to store lots of things, but it will never have the rhythm of a beating heart, a fluctuating laugh, a intimate conversation, or a shoulder to cry on. We draw many circles, but I choose to draw spirals.
Rather than looked down upon, the circle from my vantage point is a spiral that moves along a path occupying the same circular trajectory, remembering what was halo-ing above, and moving forward towards a new direction. It is this spiral figure that has me to believe my destination, albeit unknown, will always take me to the roads less traveled and to worlds undiscovered. I follow only this spiral path. I maybe afraid to travel it, but at least the fear is one that is personal and my own to conquer, and not the fear that makes this current world, flat.
I wrote "Consciousness of Gravity" traveling on the spiral. I wrote it alongside memories from 9/11 and its ongoing discovery of truth.
