I'm a thoughtful fucking writer

I'm using someone else's actions because they're safer
If you say I love you and I say it back, then I'm safe from conflict for another day
Yet if you say those same words and I tell you that I really need to get away from you
you're going to cry. You're going to feel terrible.
So What? I learned how to type from a computer program.
I learned how to write from a book.
I know what I look like because I saw my self in a mirror.
Hey, look at that can of Pomegranate soda. Wasn't it delicious.
Well, it was until I reached the bottom of the can, when I began to hate the sweetness.
Oh, it was so refreshing in the beginning.

O

Sober I look back on my history...a past ridden with silly dreams. Dreams of becoming something other than what I already was. I've always been something, since I was born into this world. I've had the same family, yet different friends. I've had different dreams, but like my friends they disappeared from my life never to be spoken of again. As my thoughts flow more clearly than they have for months, through the muddle of broken brain cells down into my fingers, I realize that the mysterious is not so. I fucked myself up with drugs. The cocaine, the magical mushrooms, the one-time LSD trip, the pills, the marijuana, alcohol and tobacco. My heart and brain are not the same as they would have been. I'm 23 years old. My lungs are shot. Eyesight, terrible. Yet I often don't worry about death, and in those times that I do I'm quickly reminded to live every moment to the fullest, and to stop bitching about small issues. Just pop some Ibuprofen and everything will be just fine. I worry about my family. I worry about my debt...I've messed up my families credit. I worry that I'll never become great, and greatness means money. The mediocre die poor. A slave with great dreams is still a slave until he realizes those dreams and becomes great. Anyone can fantasize about heaven, but to create it on Earth is more valuable than a mountain of gold and silver. The people need salvation now, not after they've been buried. When a person dies, they no longer need money. You only need meal-tickets if you can eat. And with nearly seven billion people on a planet constantly working and sleeping and screaming and laughing, money means that you can eat. IF one has no money than one will starve. I've felt the pangs of hunger man. I feel them every time I run out of money. The people who live safely don't ever go hungry. Most people plan their lives out carefully, like veteren chess players. Hunger reminds me that I'm not just a mind floating around pursuing silly dreams. My dreams are of humanity. I was born and I will die. This body will grow old for me, yet I will move on. Yet before I move on I am here. I worry about my mother. She works so hard to maintain this life for us. What can any one person really do in a system? This system is merely interconnected groups of people, yet when you are outside of the group, an outcast, you don't get fed. The pack doesn't feed outsiders. The pack lives to keep itself alive. If you're not contributing to the hive than the shoulders are turned and you must fend for yourself. We're not talking about wolves here, we're speaking of this race of humans. Humans hunt, yes, but we also gather and store. Certain Humans have travelled all across the entire world and gathered and stored and marked everything that contains energy. These are the pack. The system has been set up, and the creators of this system ensured that all who are involved with this process are safe. If you contribute money to the system, you are keeping it alive and therefore yourself and your family will live. HOW WILL YOU LIVE IF YOU ARE NOT WITH THE SYSTEM? You won't live. You will die. That is the power of the system. Most don't even question the system. Most question themselves. "How can I be of use to this system?" "How can I contribute?" They ask. We ask, "What is my job?" "What is my purpose?" "Who AM I?" Our brains haven't been washed, we just DON'T KNOW anything else. If we did we wouldn't be here. You can't get wealthy unless you do something great. You can't do something great until you understand how great you are. You can't understand your greatness until....FUCK. I don't know. I don't know if I'll ever comprehend myself. Glimmers within dreams just aren't enough.

Game

Fella's learning from fella's, females learning from females, each sides games under construction. Ooh she got that white skirt and all the fella's looking, Imma bring that white skirt to the table. For the fella's it's oh he got swoll up Imma get in that gym and pop pills and swell up.

Niceness don't express him. Cockyness express him. Niceness respects the space that a female inhabits and lets them be whatever they being in the moment, even if they trying to attract him. Arrogance is like cockyness but bigger, like she should choose him, I know I'm all that and everything else plus two or three.

She got swag, she spend time thinking about her movements. She's that niceness she's not gonna cross the bridge. Slutty is like I'm across that bridge if he's there. Fella's do the slut thing to, like she's there so I'm there. But she got swag, she see him and he don't got it. She see's him and he don't got it. She see's movie stars and rock stars and they got it so that's me that's where I'm at.

Code is the constitution of the system, ever-evolving. Game's are created and deleted and instituted and these games run through the system yet the system continues to gel.

Bodies and minds interwined like music so there's no end to the combinations of relationships, and it either sounds good or it doesn't. It could play over and over or be lost in time. So many combinations and the lock still won't open...

Relations

Girls need love.
Boys need love.
We have all got to have love.
And not that one-time heat of the moment I'll call you when I've gone until I don't call no more kind of love.
We all need that text message on a Sunday afternoon just because I've been thinking about you and no one else kind of love.
We're all a little older, and a little more experienced.
We're all a little pickier, we know what we need.
Time spent only matters if it means more time spent.
Time is like money, if you spread it around you won't get back a cent.
Love needs time, if you're with me everyday, then you love me.
If you don't want to see me than you don't love me.
When I tell that beautiful woman that I'll meet one day soon
that I love her, that will mean
that I want to spend all my extra time on her
with her, by her side,
because she makes me smile
and if I don't feel that way then I won't utter the words
because we all need love like water.
We all need love like air.
We all need love, everyone, everywhere, and I'd be lying if
I said I didn't care.

Calling all angeles

"Racism's still alive, they just be concealing it,"
-Kanye West


No matter what the race, racism, as Kanye so elegantly stated, is very much alive in the land of the free. Although this was meant to be the home of the brave, many citizens focus their hateful minds onto internet chat rooms in the privacy of their homes. Here on the web, there is no face to attach to the stream of ignorance, and there's always someone who shares your view. Even when I ignore the fact that racism exists, I am reminded in a most shocking way. Just glancing at the messages online about black people in golf and sports writing, and how there aren't hardly any, and what people have to say about is enough to steam my kettle:

"The absurdity of the media demanding that blacks be represented on the PGA tour is astounding

No athlete (if one considers golfers athletes) has ever received the accolades of Tiger Woods. He is the most compensated athlete in terms of endorsement money ever. His visage is all over golf magazines and on the talmudvision. The emphasis that is placed on him is well over the top even in light of his considerable accomplishments.

The First Tee Program which is funded by the PGA of America has been concentrating upon minority golfers much to the exclusion of young Whites ever since Woods came on the scene. Woods has been a pro since 1996-14 years. Every effort in the world has been made to darken professional golf.

The simple fact is that Tiger Woods is a fluke. A once in a generation golfing talent and a once in a millenium negro golfing talent. Woods considers himself to be cabrinasion. Which to him means Caucasion, black, indian and asian. He is a mutt. I don't know what percentage he is negro, but it's not the majority of his genes. Though I am perfectly content to classify him as a negro, his genetics say that this is only a minority portion of his make up.

Perhaps more genetically pure blacks simply lack the necessities to play the game at a high level. An average IQ of 85 and general emotional immaturity isn't going to lend itself to a game which requires fairly deep (in terms of sports) analysis of a rather complex motion-the golf swing-and steadiness of mind and high levels of concentration.

While Tiger Woods has not managed to darken the ranks of professional golf, his success on the course combined with the sickeningly high amount of coverage and fawning by the MSM has played a very signficant role in darkening something far more important-The White House. Not to even mention the ammunition it has given the kikenmedia to promote even more miscegenation among White girls.

As ESW SS said, the negro is best suited for raking the trap from which the White man exits."

-Wuzzarepublikan


The year is 2009. This is where we're at. Golf is in my future. I love it.

Mr. Sifford

Charlie Sifford

Golf Pioneer Sifford paved a path for me to follow.


By LELAND STEIN III
Sports Editor Black Voice News

VALENCIA, Ca, March 1 - How bad do you want it? Can you put your pride aside to accomplish something that has the opportunity to be special and legendary? Do you have the vision to see the big picture in life? Are you the architect of your own destiny? In the case of Jackie Robinson, he became the architect of his own destiny by the way he conducted himself and his unbending focus on the task at hand. He swallowed his enormous pride and fighter’s spirit for a bigger cause. Robinson knew that if he entered baseball and fought every person that called him a demeaning name, he would be a failure. Why? Because if he failed in the grand integration experiment, it would have taken years for another integration opportunity to be extended by Major League Baseball. Well, Charles Sifford, who was born in 1922 in North Carolina, found himself in a similar situation, breaking barriers in golf, only with a lot less fanfare, but no less the pain and resistance than his friend Robinson endured. Maybe, because of less visibility and press coverage afforded to Sifford’s quest to integrate the Professional Golf Association Tour, he endured and withstood even more degradation and contempt than Robinson. But Sifford had the vision and the will to make it against all odds. Surely the White dominated sport of golf and the infra-structures that supported it (the Country Clubs) were rock solid in their clubhouse ways and determination to keep the sport all White. Weathering the sting of exclusion and missed opportunity (he never played in the Masters), Sifford, now 76, endured long enough to become the first African -American to win a PGA Tour event; he won the Hartford Open in 1967, where he shot a scorching 64 to out last the charging field. Sifford won the Nissan Open - played as the the L.A. Open - in 1969 held at Rancho Park Golf Course. He overcame Harold Henning in a sudden death playoff. During his career he won six Negro National Titles, before joining the PGA Tour in 1960 at the age of 39, long past his prime playing years. Besides the Hartford and L.A. Open titles, he won the PGA Seniors’ Championship in 1975 and the Suntree Classic held in Melbourne Australia in 1980 Sifford won $1,265,490 during his PGA career. The majority of the prize money came on the Seniors’ Tour ($924,145). Conducted at the Valencia Country Club, the following is a question and answer interview with pioneer Sifford, whose autobiography, “Just Let Me Play”, says volumes about Sifford’s quest to integrate the golf world.

Q: How did you get exposed to golf.
A: Well, I got a job as a caddie in North Carolina when I was 13. I could shoot par then. The thing about it was my dad, who was a laborer, made only $2.00 a week. I made that much caddying.
Q: When did you get the fever for the sport.
A: As soon as I got on the course I felt it. I knew that was something I wanted to do for the rest of my life. At the time, it seemed like just a dream, because professionally the sport wasn’t accessible to Blacks back then.
Q: Who was instrumental in helping you realize your dream of being a golf professional.
A: I worked for Billy Eckstine as his personal pro for many years. He helped keep me in the game. I also hustled and played anywhere I could to make a buck . . . and, to just play for the love of the game.
Q: As you continued to play, you realized you had a special gift for the game, but the PGA was off limits to Blacks, what were your options.
A: We played in celebrity tournaments and worked with the top Black athletes and performers of that era. Joe Louis had Teddy Rhodes as his personal pro. We played in many non-sanctioned PGA events. The UGA (United Golfer’s Association) became a nice opportunity for us to travel and play the game, as well as earn a small buck.
Q: Did you like the hustling life and pick up golf.
A: No. I wanted to play 72 holes of golf and try to make the less mistakes and out think my opponents. I didn’t necessarily like hustling and the other stuff we had to do to survive, but I was forced to do that to put food on the table. I really wanted the opportunity to beat someone and earn the No. 1 trophy at the end of a tournament, that’s what its really all about.
Q: What is your recollection of boxers “Sugar” Ray Robinson and Joe Louis.
A: Both loved golf. Robinson never could play too well, but he supported us. He really loved to play the game. Don Newcomb (ex-Dodger great) was another who was just like Robinson supporting us, and, our quest to make the Tour. But Joe Louis did as much as anyone. Louis was a big reason, along with California District Attorney Charley Moss, that the LA Open fought the PGA Constitution’s “Caucasians Only Clause” - it was stricken in 1961.
Q: How would you characterize your strengths as a golfer.
A: I used to always keep the ball in play. I wasn’t a great putter, but I was a decent putter. I had a good short game and I kept my ball in play always. Also, I think I was a smart player . . . I tried to think through situations.
Q: What was the lowest round you shot. Did you shoot under 66.
A: I shot a lot of those. At Hartford I shot a 64 that led to me winning the tournament. I could shoot some numbers. The lowest I’ve shot is a 63.
Q: When were you playing your best golf.
A: I say that 1947 through 1960 I was swinging the clubs pretty good. I won the Long Beach Open in 1957, but it wasn’t a sanctioned PGA event, so I didn’t get invited to the Masters.
Q: Why aren’t more young Blacks on the Tour.
A: I think they just don’t have the will to endure the effort it takes. You have to put something into this game . . . you have to sacrifice alot to get here. I sent my nephew (Curtis Sifford) to qualifying school, but he didn’t . . . it’s tough going. A lot of the youth today will not put up with the stuff I did back then. I had to be strong to deal with the stuff that was placed in front of me
Q: What stuff did you have to put up with.
A: I don’t want to repeat the things that were said to me and about me, or rehash the threats. But let me tell you, I was the first Black to play in a PGA event in the South in Greensboro, North Carolina, and I can tell you I didn’t play too well because of the other things I had to deal with.
Q: Was it very frustrating being excluded from golf courses and not given the opportunity to compete.
A: Of course it was frustrating not being able to compete on the PGA Tour, especially when you could see there were many players that were out there that you knew you could compete with or were better than. In fact, there were a number of Black players that were very good golfers and enjoyed the game. Yes, it may have hurt to be told you can’t compete because of the color of your skin, but we went about our business and just tried to have fun. We felt if we stayed at it and kept working on
our game, things would have to change. They eventually did, but I was too old when it opened up in 1974 for Lee Elder who played in the Masters.
Q: What will it take to get more Blacks involved in the game.
A: Well, it will be hard. Most of the urban area schools don’t play the sport in high school. They are use to playing basketball, football and baseball because the parents can take them anywhere to play those games. But to take a kid to the driving range to drive balls all day, well, most families have to work to make a living. Also, the cost of playing has increased and in many cases it’s not affordable.
Q: Has Woods presence changed the game in a way that more minorities are involved and maybe that will translate into more pros out on the Tour.
A: Sure his presence has change the Tour. Look at the galleries he has that follow him at every tournament. But, I don’t see anymore Tiger Woods’ coming behind him. On the Senior Tour a couple years ago there were five, Ben Morgan, Calvin Peete, Lee Elder, Jim Thorpe and me. Now there’s only Tiger. I’m not sure, but we seem to be going backwards (with diversity).
Q: So what do you think the future holds for diversity in golf.
A: To be a golfer you have to take it upon yourself. Your mother and father can’t make you play enough to be good at it. Just because Tiger has done so well, most people can forget about that. You can teach the game but you have to have the skill, and, the opportunity to play to make it happen.
Q: Do the youth of today recognize you and know what you’ve accomplished.
A: Many don’t know what I’ve done or the foundation myself and many others laid so we can have a Tiger Woods today. What the kids today need to know is that golf didn’t start in 1997, but in 1947. It’s a good thing what Tiger is doing, but most kids don’t know nothing better than Tiger Woods, that shouldn’t be. They should know where the game started from, they should know their history.
Q: You say golf started in 1947 what do you mean by that.
A: The UGA was a Black league that played in Washington D.C., Philadelphia, Cleveland, Detroit, New York and Chicago. It was a group of Black players. We also had a few White players, too. But none of them could beat Teddy Rhodes or Bill Spiller.
Q: Are you bitter about the things you had to endure and the lack of opportunity available to you during your era.
A: No, I’m not bitter. If you go around being bitter at people you won’t live long. I’ll be 76-years-old this year. I’ve put all that negative stuff behind me and decided to look forward a long time ago. When I was going through what I did, I focused on proving that a Black man can play the game of golf as good as a White man. What I’ve tried to prove has been proven by Tiger Woods. I was too old when they let me play, but I never did learn how to play the game the best I could, because I had too many other things to worry about.
Q: How do you feel about what Tiger Woods has accomplished on the Tour.
A: Well, I’m really glad he has come along like he has . . . it really makes me smile . . .a big smile. They need some more Tiger Woods, but I don’t know if they will find any soon, because the majority of the youth are not into golf. What Tiger has accomplished is wonderful. There is tremendous pressure on him from all angles, but the way he has handled himself is special.
I’m very proud of what he has done and the way he has done it. I had breakfast with the kid this morning, and he understands and respects the players that played before him. He’s a very smart guy and knows how to handle what’s happening around him.
Q: Are you a role model.
A: Well, the parents are the real role models. But, I’m sure someone out there admires the trail I’ve blazed and the things I went through to get on the PGA Tour. We had our fun, but I always tried to make sure I didn’t do anything that would reflect bad on myself and others. I want respect and gave it. I just wanted to play the game and show people Blacks could play at the highest level, too.

racy

What are you made of what's your race
they want to know so bad
well, look, i can't see my face now
I'm not black or white or happy or sad
I'm not mad but your mind concieved this
these thoughts that you're thinking be
boring me so let's move on please
long armed hip ape cool cat low weight
slim waist expanded mind
scaly skin hair cut close to skin
able to swim without the fins
floating around on earth chillin
mapped the planet so fast
quick moves pushin like pushpins
many possible ways to get in
mentally physical is
what i am see this goofy grin
you know i'm not lying

Be

I can be your lifes reflection
I am the answer to the questions
I can be the shoelace that fits
and I swear that the center of your eye is lit

Being is so strange and real weird
Excitement appears, so does fear
Can't seem to see like a seer
Chasing future sensations
past steadily biting from the rear

Rolling around the universe in strange circles
my life symbolized by smoke from the purple
what's the difference between purpose and accident
you don't know i don't know so lets just get over it

Pure

Stripping down to her bare brown skin
Across from the cold moon
Soft reflections settle within
Not too slow not so soon
She feels my stare but she's not sure
Barely nude playing pure tunes

Yellow Lights

I lie motionless on the floor
slobber slides down my chin
I'm breathing hard eyelids opening
I'm alive inside skin
I've forgotten where I was last
this world does let me in

The more I do the less I rest
Relaxing as I do
lying motionless at a desk
dreaming of nights so cool
released, mind like an uncaged bird
it knows not what to do

Mind surrounded swimming through space
Wakes up and wondering
exactly what had happened then
mapping mirrors we bring

Mortality

A conversation to my fellow humans swarming blindly around the bottom rungs of the social ladder, I feel that the higher one climbs up the ladder, the more this person's thoughts become the facts of life, and a fact is a hard thing to kill when its followers believe that it is immortal:

I'm being assaulted with fact after fact
Truthfully creating every word that I say back
But it is only my truth, just as what you say is only true to you
A fact may be an event like Gods speaking through a male human,
He gets thousands of people to agree in the belief that it happened in reality
and the minds transcribe his feelings into the language of humanity
once imagination enters existence it exists
so its real, living and breathing until I kill it with my barren fists
spilling the truth to the followers who chose to devote
their minds to a vote for a thought that wasn't theirs
Now the elements of this monster are broken down
and the pieces lie waiting to be built up again from the ground
I know that what I think an expression of what I know
And what you know and say seems flooded by emotional leakage anyways
And it can't be the word of Gods, no matter what you say
because Gods can't use this language that drives humans insane.

Surrounded by clapping hands
The warrior shoots the rock, and in the target it lands
You can't hear him talking, yet his actions are loud
He acts, they react, he has gathered a crowd
At the end of the day light will not exist
yet tonight the ones he conquered will still be quite pissed

Players Change the Games

morals as lessons taught and learned
lesson as instruction
instructions like real directions
one form of assistance
aid for perfection of the basics
provision of the necessities, the requirements, the essentials, which constitutes the essence of the thing in question,
and since a rule is a direction, and rules
constitute the essence of the thing in question, then a moral can be modeled by a rule, and so the rules of any game are also the morals of that game. Changing the rules of the game is to change the essence of the game, and so changes the morals of that game. The old lessons no longer apply to this new game...because the game has changed!

Soma!

Fluttering past the cunning bumblebees this hummingbird's wings quiver
quicker than Beyonce's lower lip when she sings a song acting out in high fashion, not a rhythm & blues singer, I'm a word assassin flow creamy like Baskin I'm answering not asking floated to high within my body, the incredible machine, and forced myself to survive in a state of shock stuck inside my head with no chance of escaping, couldn't see the keys to the locks as bugs ate holes in my socks and the Chinese junks kept on showing up around these docks in red and white flocks, silent movies were the norm and Chaplin was king now my life flows effortlessly like a submarine through the Atlantic, I was denying my vessel, frantically abusing it, unconsciously training a machine that perceives and converts data into a form that I can use, creating a self completely capable of fulfilling dreams and wishes from the moon and back while the daffodils dwindle like light when spaces fill with black.

Two things fill the mind with ever-increasing wonder and awe,
the more often and the more intensely the mind of thought is drawn to them:
the starry heavens above me and the moral law within me.

Critic of Pure Reason
Immanuel Kant

Adventurous Quests

Sparkling Pears dripped from the greenest trees of Shamrock Forest. Inside this particular forest lived a very peculiar creature. This particular creature was two-legged, two-armed, one-headed, slightly taller than a young Pear tree and very fast in the mind. Its name was Gurgles. Gurgles had many friends in Shamrock Forest, yet even though Gurgles was popular, it wasn't happy. To its many friends, Gurgles appeared to be very confident and happy. It was only when Gurgles walked along the mirrorlike stream coated in candy colored leaves that it expressed its sadness. Then one cold blue day, something beautiful happened.
Gurgles was walking along the same path that it always traveled on, when it spotted a dark dot ahead of it. The dark dot darted back and forth among the Pear trees, while Gurgles hid behind a bush. Gurgles was scared. No longer dark, and no longer a dot, a spellbinding Native American girl appeared. Sparkles reflected off of glistening fruits into her eyes, and the light finally reached Gurgles. Gurgles realized something beautiful.
Gurgles had been living in one small part of itself.
It had never discovered the world from any other perspective.
Gurgles was no longer unhappy.
Gurgles danced as the liquid sun drooped lower and lower in the sky.
As night fell, Gurgles bit into a juicy Pear, and giggled to itself until morning.

Thai Bet

Accumulate your particles
Preparing my points for precipitation
introductions function as reduction conjunctions
loco chica's un poco focus
I stops whining when I quits refining
Flabbergasted as a platypus
I enjoys the fruit I planted
cultivate my seeds on the planet of inspiration
digitize my spirit cuz I needs mental respiration
my tions are mingling with my ings and ones
can't feel my bones toned microphones all alone
can we postpone the pain til tomorrow
i'd like to skip out on this moment of sorrow
or maybe i'll borrow some currency from you
at ten percent interest wit an additional twenty when you past due
I'm one of the few
still breathing on my own
and I ain't living on my
lonesome strapped to the owners just like every other city dweller
dwelling in dwelldom its not hell just controlled freedom
I sympathize with the crew of nebekenezzer
I wonder how the governator is shwartzenegger
thank god i'm a two legger and not restricted from play
and my ego is steadily rising like fresh baked bread at subway

Crimson Robots

Crimson robots
dreaming strange thoughts
Learned to tie knots
never pleased unless she fought
past memories of time she bought
spending dough like it ain't worth a lot
understanding every symbol i've been taught
looking clearly at every thing i've got
peering through clouds of misery and pot
the brain might breathe but the feet just rot
hand sweatin stuck in the cookie jar
like dinosaur bones in black tar guilty when ya got caught
swervin through the parking lot
squark past pigs snouts drippin wit roid snot
traffic held up like a metallic blood clot
and i'm bacteria, pace too quick for the average crimson robot
dreaming strange thoughts, flashback to my plot
remembering who taught me to tie knots
why she ain't pleased unless she's fought
where she spent her time and why she so hot
out my temple, watching as I spend unwisely
reenter my atmosphere, alter the rest of my thoughts
ride the beat glide on waves mimic the best and align your dots

Silhouetted trees laugh as slugs race past
Silly grins on free mice spending time like money
Whether or not the mice are blind, they accumalate fast money
It takes time to make time, so why not just spend time?
I fall away from my body, the search for energy, deep into my self, on a search for energy
Hardware neurons wired small and software programs installed within
I float through the maze still amazed at the timing of space.

The devil may be chaos, but nothing seems chaotic in the land of sustenance. God may be order, yet nothing seems ordered in the

land of goverance.

Have you noticed it? What is it? It's that nothing here is CRAZY. Every thing is stable. Isn't that a strange fact? Or maybe something is going on, and my mind just never lets it in the door.

YouTube - Vocal Warmup: Part 4 - Protecting The Throat

YouTube - Vocal Warmup: Part 4 - Protecting The Throat

"Humans and other animals do not look at a scene in a steady way. Instead, the eyes move around, locating interesting parts of the scene and building up a mental 'map' corresponding to the scene. One reason for saccades of the human eye is that the central part of the retina, the fovea, plays a critical role in resolving objects. By moving the eye so that small parts of a scene can be sensed with greater resolution, body resources can be used more efficiently.
In addition, the human eye is in a constant state of vibration, oscillating back and forth at a rate of about 30-70 Hz. These microsaccades are tiny movements, roughly 20 arcseconds in excursion and are completely imperceptible under normal circumstances. They serve to refresh the image being cast onto the rod cells and cone cells at the back of the eye. Without microsaccades, staring fixedly at something would cause the vision to cease after a few seconds since rods and cones only respond to a change in luminance.[Wikipedia]."

i

I is what I is
I does what I does
Just one star in the sky, sure
you are just one among many, yes
but each pure with the allure of a diamond
and one is more than I ever knew
the sun is just one, see how it blesses life
soaking the Earth in light constantly
and I is just one, yet look how blessed i is
soaked in soul, constantly
i hasn't died yet, spent twenty-two years,
others have been here for eighty, thousands of moments
I is what I is
I does what I does
My body is a star, and the earth is my galaxy
The tree outside my open window,
dancing softly as the wind rolls
is a star, that ant is a star
we've measured the stars, we're just like the stars
Light lets me see the scars on my knees
sound is earthly and I is vast
Past visited by my silent inquisition
this space I inhabits is my time
this face is but liquid clay and at the end of the day
I is what I is and
I does what I does

I, the maestro, stand as one
First comes rhythmic energy
then comes the layers in decoration
heart is soul manifest
skin is the sound of the instruments
players play in harmony
never losing the beat
the energy rises and falls yet never dies
humming one melody repeatedly
a good song makes my body cry