.don't criticize what you can't understand.

Another upload with Brian Puspos
I've watched him for years grow as a dancer
and he never disappoints me
This is another moving piece by him

Saturday mornings

I don't know if there's any relationship with a sneeze and  your lungs but hearing that thunderous roar let me know you were still here.

Still alive

Still breathing

Still fight left in you

Because with years of inhaling that nicotine and years of swallowing that whiskey the odds are rarely in your favor

But with the realness of your sneeze

So comfortable with so much force you would jump in your seat letting it all out

It let me know you weren't going anywhere

A little after 6 on Saturday morning

And I'd find myself staring out the kitchen window of grandmas house just watching you from across

Probably no more than a minute on most occasions

I'd look out at you, sitting outside with a cup of coffee and a cigarette

Wearing a white sando and a fisherman's hat, ready to start your day

I couldn't of been younger than 11 yet no older than 14

And I never understood it

Especially at that age, why 'old' people got up so early

And all they'd do was sit outside and drink coffee

After a minute or so I'd tuck myself back into my bed, because my body was telling me it was still night time and fell back asleep

But here I am 25 years old, coincidently on a Saturday morning of what could have been your 92nd birthday, sitting in the exact spot you'd sit down at in the early mornings from across where I'd watch you out that window

6 something in the morning with a cup of tea in my hand and I get it

It took me awhile but I understand the beauty of the early mornings you enjoyed

The silence the world gives you before he starts his day, or the smell of wet grass, or the smell of the world before the corbon dioxide takes over, the beauty of stillness

The best time for reflecting, appreciating everything I have

Thank you

Happy Birthday grandpa

Enjoy a couple for me

Late upload.
But had to share.
Cause Puspos did it again, damn.

Writers 'C' Block

So, I'm taking this 'writing the news' class

And I thought I would really enjoy the class

But, I realize I'm not really fond of it

I'm a communication major

Most people think I plan on eventually working with the news by way of writing it

And I have no means to

I don't wanna be a reporter for the news

I don't wanna be told what to write or how to write

I don't wanna feel the pressure of needing to produce 'articles' daily and with a very short time limit

I don't wanna get straight to the point

I don't wanna tell you exactly what happens

I wanna describe that feeling

Like when you're at work and you fuck up and your body tenses up

Then you start fidgeting with your fingers from nervousness

And you ask God to help you out this one time and you PROMISE him you'll never ask for anything ever again

When your heart wants to jump outta your chest

That feeling

I wanna start on a piece  and then forget about it then come back and edit it

I like to write the same way I like to enjoy my tea; hot and slow

Well minus the hot part, but you catch my drift… right?

So I guess every bone, muscle, vein, cartilage, etc.  in my body has been preventing me from writing the way I need to write for this class

I tell myself that it's just a class and it doesn’t mean this is what I want to be doing

But I'm stubborn as fuck when it comes to putting my name on a piece of writing that has to be shared with the whole class and I don't put my heart in it. 

they say my gender is my destiny, but fuck that