New York
On my way home from my first open mic (oops I'm sorry overzealous poet by the bathroom) SLAM at the Nuyorican Poets Cafe where the famed Sarah Jones cut her razor sharp teeth, I saw Omar, the tech guy from Africana.com and the Tavis Smiley Show and all that good stuff, on the subway platform. He had headphones on in and a thick folder of papers in his hands. I had 20 or so of the NYU Magazine Brownstone that we were promoting at the alphabet city hotspot in my hand I should have bumrushed his show with one of the coveted not quite glossies but I left the man alone. We both waited for eons at Broadway and Houston minding the gap upon entering the unpopulated abyss that is the late night commute.
My scratchy throat, burning chest, persistent cough and stuffy nose played the background while the overshadowed genius of Speakerboxx blasted through my headphones.
I was slightly ashamed. I have a discman and even the borderline homeless have an Ipod but it took me and my family a while to get a CD player too. We the Burrell's were right behind the Donahoe/Atkins as being the last folks in greater Seattle without a CD player. Odddly enough change in all of its other forms in not all that strange to either of our households.
But alone in my train canoodling with my presently sick self I was bathed in a little sunshine while riding over the Manhattan Bridge-- pitch black but for the NY skyline. I thought about how so many things I wanted I have. And it was overwhelming. I was grateful. I am grateful. I am thankful to be living in NY. I am grateful to be around good people. I am grateful that all things happen for a reason, that all things work together for good for those that love the Lord, that I'll get to where I need to be in due time. Peace beyond the passion that is the disguise of anxiety.
Orville said he checked out my blog, so did Sandrea, so did Joe, Candice, so many beautiful people. It means a lot. It makes me smile and so do the Jetsons. It's late, my eyes are heavy so I'll watch the Jetsons and the let the midnight sunshine warm me to sleep.
My scratchy throat, burning chest, persistent cough and stuffy nose played the background while the overshadowed genius of Speakerboxx blasted through my headphones.
I was slightly ashamed. I have a discman and even the borderline homeless have an Ipod but it took me and my family a while to get a CD player too. We the Burrell's were right behind the Donahoe/Atkins as being the last folks in greater Seattle without a CD player. Odddly enough change in all of its other forms in not all that strange to either of our households.
But alone in my train canoodling with my presently sick self I was bathed in a little sunshine while riding over the Manhattan Bridge-- pitch black but for the NY skyline. I thought about how so many things I wanted I have. And it was overwhelming. I was grateful. I am grateful. I am thankful to be living in NY. I am grateful to be around good people. I am grateful that all things happen for a reason, that all things work together for good for those that love the Lord, that I'll get to where I need to be in due time. Peace beyond the passion that is the disguise of anxiety.
Orville said he checked out my blog, so did Sandrea, so did Joe, Candice, so many beautiful people. It means a lot. It makes me smile and so do the Jetsons. It's late, my eyes are heavy so I'll watch the Jetsons and the let the midnight sunshine warm me to sleep.
saith جليلة on 20.11.04
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