Feel the ocean envelope you; let its salt cleanse you, its liquid bathe you.
Just.
Be.
The ocean,
in its infinite sacredness, is not to be underestimated. There is nothing safe about the ocean; nothing safe about Love. Where there is yin there will be yang.
Acuity.
Balance.
Flotsam.
Jetsam.
Option.
Choice.
And yet.
Here you are: filled with noxious endorphins.
Heart pounding against the breast plate.
Protective.
Captive.
Bereft.
Stoic.
Will you stand on the shore, longing for sacred waters.
What Gil Scot Heron meant in his brilliant 1971 prolifics was not the literal but the metaphorical. This revolution is certainly televised, but it will not be balanced this way, it will not be won on that medium.
The Revolution Will Not Be Televised
Gil Scot Heron
You will not be able to stay home, brother. You will not be able to plug in, turn on and cop out. You will not be able to lose yourself on skag and skip out for beer during commercials, Because the revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be televised. The revolution will not be brought to you by Xerox In 4 parts without commercial interruptions. The revolution will not show you pictures of Nixon blowing a bugle and leading a charge by John Mitchell, General Abrams and Mendel Rivers to eat hog maws confiscated from a Harlem sanctuary.
The revolution will not be televised. The revolution will not be brought to you by the Schaefer Award Theatre and will not star Natalie Woods and Steve McQueen or Bullwinkle and Julia. The revolution will not give your mouth sex appeal. The revolution will not get rid of the nubs. The revolution will not make you look five pounds thinner, the revolution will not be televised, Brother.
There will be no pictures of you and Willie Mays pushing that shopping cart down the block on the dead run, or trying to slide that color television into a stolen ambulance. NBC will not be able predict the winner at 8:32 on reports from 29 districts. The revolution will not be televised.
There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down brothers in the instant replay. There will be no pictures of Whitney Young being run out of Harlem on a rail with a brand new process. There will be no slow motion or still life of Roy Wilkens strolling through Watts in a Red, Black and Green liberation jumpsuit that he had been saving For just the right occasion.
Green Acres, The Beverly Hillbillies, and Hooterville Junction will no longer be so god damned relevant, and women will not care if Dick finally screwed Jane on Search for Tomorrow because Black people will be in the street looking for a brighter day. The revolution will not be televised.
There will be no highlights on the eleven o'clock news and no pictures of hairy armed women liberationists and Jackie Onassis blowing her nose. The theme song will not be written by Jim Webb or Francis Scott Key, nor sung by Glen Campbell, Tom Jones, Johnny Cash or Englebert Humperdink. The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be right back after a message about a white tornado, white lightning, or white people. You will not have to worry about a dove in your bedroom, a tiger in your tank, or the giant in your toilet bowl. The revolution will not go better with Coke. The revolution will not fight the germs that may cause bad breath. The revolution will put you in the driver's seat.
The revolution will not be televised, will not be televised, will not be televised, will not be televised. The revolution will be no re-run brothers; The revolution will be live.
Smile and focus in the face of adversity because whether or not you show up and participate, the show, that is life, must go on. So put your game face on and make it happen.
This post is about me and my finishing ONE of the very most difficult tasks of my entire adult life.
One.
I have accomplished a number of things that I am extremely proud of, one of course being the published novel I so slaved over...the other being the final accomplishment of completing this law degree that I worked so desperately to covet.
Long days, long nights
No weekends or holidays
No semblance of a life
Two or three short breaks:
Hookahs & Hose (bourgeoisie inside joke)
Blonde hair & afros
Concealed beverages & Patron
Family & friends, beginnings and ends
Cancelled plans, missed celebrations
Relationships on the mend
And sometimes, like today...like this very moment in time, in all of my exhaustion, all of the stress finally seeping from my pores...I can't say with complete conviction that it was worth it, not yet.
I am in tears; joy-filled. I think. I can't decipher because it's all so new. I am relieved; yet I am filled with an over over-abundance of something...
joy - regret - trepidation - determination
I still must pass the BAR.
So, then there's that.
Only.
Time.
Will.
Tell.
#MOOD
#iAmMoreThanAConquerer
#BloodSweatTears
You're on your own
In a world you've grown
Few more years to go,
Don't let the hurdle fall
So be the girl you loved,
Be the girl you loved
I'll wait
So show me why you're strong
Ignore everybody else,
We're alone now
I'll wait
So show me why you're strong
Ignore everybody else,
We're alone now
Suddenly, I'm hit
Is this darkness of the dawn?
And your friends are gone
And your friends won't come
So show me where you fit
So show me where you fit
Suddenly, I'm hit
Is this darkness of the dawn?
And your friends are gone
And your friends won't come
So show me where you fit
So show me where you fit
For all intents and purposes, fortunate or un-, this is my life. -- Aisis
