"Its physical place in the world is as important as its people."

 

 

 “I've been here before, I think this is my third time,” they say. But they come and never quite understand the significance of its culture. Its physical place in the world is as important as its people. A mixed culture of indigenous and European ancestry.  Hundreds of them packed in the tiny and only country bordering the Pacific Ocean.

I don’t visit this place often as I use too as a child. But it sure holds a great deal of memories in its treasure chest. It was a place of firsts. First grade. First friends. First love. First lost. First place.

And although its culture is emended in my soul living in a place much different than here, it is hard to stay traditional.  Part of why we visited so much was to never forget. Who we were. Who we are.

Why it is important? Because family is.

Everyone comes from somewhere. Physically, spiritually, philosophically, vocally. It is something to be prideful of. For it defines us artfully and musically. Don’t be afraid to embody where you come from. Just as long as you keep others mindful. Teach them if they don’t know. Invite them in your ways. Don’t separate yourselves.

We are not simple individuals. We are a collaboration of cultures.

 

 

But how can you forget about a place confined by life sources?  How to forget the warm pacific waters bouncing off the rugged cliff sides? The comfort of the sun bleached sand clinging to your body as you’re lying down. The tall palm trees with its leaves waving in the wind. It’s heat that leaves you with blistered feet if you’re not careful.    



The people. The love. It’s culture. It’s struggles that “has been reduced to a memory” (http://allofthegoodblogaddressesaretaken.blogspot.com/). They pressed on.

Overall its…..

Image. A picture perfect place. You can’t look away. You want to be here. Engulfed in its world. It is here where hydration is quenched.

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Music. The musical connotation of happiness amongst its visitors. The energy of two worlds colliding. It is here where the sounds of music are heard day and night.



Text. The whispers of its romantic language. What is a text if not a tangible or intangible entity in which you find meaning. “The Text is experienced only in an activity of production” (Barthes, 157).  No two experiences are the same.



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There is no other place quite like this home. It is only here at this exact location. To be celebrated. To be reminisced. To be a part of.

 

 

And although memories flow like a wave drawing me deeper and deeper to a place unintended, I look around and realize something I hadn’t before. Blinded temporarily but not anymore. I see now. A new world within an old. Something unexplainable. A Jes Grew brewing. On the walls. On the trees. On odd cone shape statues. In the air? Pollution. Is it pollution? No. An epidemic. An anti-disease.  What has taken over is a phenomenon. Once unacceptable.

Voices suddenly surround me. Voices of people from bridges, allies, streets and parks. Unknown voices of a new generation. Not by language. 而不是按语.No por idioma. ليس عن طريق اللغة.Pas par langue.   But by appearance. By the way their dickies hang from their waist. By taking risks and trying not to get caught. By bubbling verses next to other verses and next to more bubble letters. Or by paying homage to uncle Fester. Who’s uncle Fester? You should know.

 

Unclear ideas for others to see. It does not have to be clear. Clear isn’t clear even for the clearest of thinkers. It can be Mumbo Jumbo. Or Jumbo Mumbo. Both are the same.What does it all mean? It’s there to be interpreted….I think.

 

Or….wait….is….it?….Umm….shit…I don’t know anymore...Too many Fox Barrels.

http://toastandeggs.blogspot.com/

 

It use to be

Here is bittersweet.

Caught in a trance of madness. An irresistible madness. Infatuated. Can’t escape. But I don’t want to escape. How did we get ever get here? I can’t seem to remember. Does it matter? Probably not here. I have never felt this way before. It must be a dream. Butterflies, heart thumping, clammy hands, rapid breathing, cheeks hurt from smitten. Is this love?

 

Here was simple,

 

At one point remember? Nothing else mattered. No worries. We would sit and fanaticize how great life would be if money didn’t ruled the world. We would rule the world. But then there was a time when things got quiet and we realized that is does. And love is not always willing and able.  Life gets complicated without ever knowing.  Love got complicated.

 

 

 

Here is quite now.

No one is here but me. Alone again. I will never forget though, those brown pensive eyes, the rugged demeanor which was just an exterior appearance. Because we both knew the truth, your deep and bashfully laughter would give it away. Hahahahahahaha…….I just hope that you won’t forget either. We were there once. Together. A place that is always imagined. A place hundreds of thousands people wish to be someday.

http://musicislifefsu.blogspot.com/2013/09/you-dont-have-to-be-afraid.html#comment-form

 

 

Here is somewhere. Here is holy. Here is discrete. Here is certain. Here is humble. Here is home.

Here is somewhere.

There is no place like here yet there are so many others. It is here where I am brought back time and time again. I cannot escape it. It is who I am. It is where I come from. It is where I wish to be.

Here is holy.

Two elements of life meet here. Maybe more. Society labels it paradise. I call it heaven.

Here is discrete.

Not even the darkest of closet is as discrete. I can think of the deepest of thoughts which are then blown by the wind. Never to be heard by any other. How do I get there?

Here is certain.

Everything else is not real. This place is natural so it’s real. I go there and I know that nothing else matters for everything that does is here.

Here is Humble.

It contains the simple things in earth. I’m there with others like me. We are all the same. We are all equal.

Here is home.

Home does not compare to this home. This spot is sweeter.

It is where I am going to stay.

Here is somewhere. Here is holy. Here is discrete. Here is certain. Here is humble. Here is home.