methodology on making meaning in times of doubt

do You. shhh....said it. said it already. said it so much you turned off, like color on the tube of a chromatic monitor - tv's with knobs that sit in museums with my ammu abbu bhaiyas. relics of a past to be disected by academics in disertation to make meaning of their life. to teach.

taught myself to stick my tongue down my throat until i am tonguing the parasites and aciphidophilous in my gut. they ask for more rosh golla, cliff and luna bars. come on, they say, they're not so bad. they sound like albert and danny, and willy and juan. teenagers looking to actualize bad, cause bad feels so good. so  good that f u...f the world. bad. breaking bad. bad is good in babylon. sometimes. depending on the type of bad. surrendering, praying, counting prayer beads, walking light, stitching old into new to avoid shopping, breaking naan with family, that's the worst. watch out.

back in the day...back in the day was sun and moon...back in the day was earth spinning. 

i've been spinning, a dervish with a mosque on my head that is concealed by fine curls that raise an eyebrow on ethnic background...ambiguous i stand closer to my ammu, hugging her rooted body adorned in ancient fabrics that speak humility. i hold closer my abbu's thumb, until i am home. thousand year old farmers prostrating to the One. 

these thoughts are met against jobs and rent and a rootless existence that has me pouring my biography in rhyme and meter and other people's song and napkins and notebooks and shopping bags, like i would die if i didn't. n i do, without a plan, without a market, without a publishing house to approve or disapprove, without an audience whose needs are met. 

the methodology to sanity is the energy of Khaliq - to Create. and do it Quietly. no One to see, to hear the polished, edited, sanded down, nicely packaged spa materials that will have them coming back. 

come back to You. 

You and me, yeah, i've been waiting. think i'm gonna make a move...