As I think about my past days. Then I think about my last days. Was it all about the cash chase? Adrenaline fast race. Forget about my blood tribe. Dumb guy. Recently when I be surfing on the net. I rarely see reality, integrity, respect. And the truth it hurts my heart. Like when I wrote “It Hurts My Heart”. Does this mean I’m blanketed in the dark with Elliot’s last name. Untouchable Dwayne. Can only mean remove myself from all bodies of this plain. I’m not talking spirited. I’m talking clearer things. Like looking in the mirror your reflection say here it is. And you gasp as you are shaken and awaken and steered a through. And you pass to see perspectives from a different view. Mind progression is the one type. Above life. And without it like bringing a knife to gun fight. But when we consider Being—with a capital ‘B’—this includes not only such ‘is’es as celestial bodies, but also such ‘isn’t’s as the space that encompasses them. But now, a perfectly logical person would therefore say that the notion of the Self¬—the Ātman, as the fundamental reality in which everything else exists—is meaningless. As I sit near the setonaikai in Hiroshima. It gets deeper my connection with the planet and its features. But I still remember the importance of swiping a visa that can bring you to the places where you need a proper visa. Just to enter. If you young and black hearing my voice. Living abroad by your lonesome will relive you of choice. Not choice like freedom. But, choice like was that racism just now should I beat or teach em. Not to say life abroad is without flaws. All my problems just change and become all ours. I hate to think that wherever I go. Based off my skin tone. I’m the enemy. Based off yours you my enemy. And you dead to me. That’ too much weight to hold. But know I will never fold. I try to move. One step at a time. Towards my goal. That’s the only way that I know. But just all us human beings rattling around, we’re not even rooted to the ground like trees. And therefore, it’s very easy for us to form the impression that I am only what is inside my bag of skin, and that my Self is a different Self from your Self. And we’re all, therefore fundamentally disconnected. There are days in Kurahashi where I keep it very lonesome. Cause I wanna hear my own thoughts float across the ocean. If you get it, get it right away. My brainstorm a tidal wave. Catch me riding down that thing. Look at me posing. Coasting across the seams. Of imaginary beams. That were created from my Being. Not to interrupt ya’ll dreams. Cause it seems. We ignore one another’s themes. Eating chips, the other cleans. Where’s the sense behind these things? But I just try to follow golden rules. Not say I follow golden rules. Then treat my people like absent fathers do. Weary of cats saying they own a crew. Cause that community talk is so that they can take advantage of your overview. A little selfish. But I’ve been for myself, My family, friends and my pals. Reciprocal treatment that swells. My heart. I’m me before anything else. And just know that’s how the cards have been dealt. And so your apparent disconnection—the fact that you are not tied to other people with umbilical cords, or some kind of wiring that gives you one mind—nevertheless, we do have one mind. In the sense that, for example, all of us turn out to be approximately the same shape. Two eyes, two nostrils, a mouth, two hands, two legs, and so on. A haiku poem—Japanese haiku—says, “A hundred gourds from the mind of one vine.” Now, the Hindus do say that the Self—the great Self—is consciousness. But of course, that does not mean consciousness in the sense of our ordinary everyday consciousness. Ordinary everyday consciousness is indeed a form of this kind of consciousness—shall we say, a manifestation of it? —but then there’s also consciousness which doesn’t notice, but nevertheless is highly responsive. The way your heart beats, the way you breathe, the way you grow your hair: you’re doing it, but you don’t know how it’s done. So therefore, just in the same way that conscious attention is not aware of all the other operations of the body, so in just that way we are not aware of our connection¬—indeed, our identity–with the fundamental Self.

Now a days folks say get it how you live. But if everybody getting, who the ones that’ll give. But I know you can’t give. If there’s nothing on your plate. So instead of maybe wait. You take mine from my space. Mr. Gardener. The author or the scribe. All started with a spark and then collide. You either play your part, or you provide. You demonstrate some art, and then decline. That’s the paradigm that we living in. Write my thoughts down just to share with my children. I mean if they’ll listen. A generation gap can create a lot of gremlins. And that’s the fear I had from the beginning. It’s no problem if you not just only winning. Don’t let the stress take you. Break you. Rearrange you. Make you do some things that isn’t tasteful. I understand why everyone is on that cash route. But don’t lose your younger self listening to mass doubt. Round and Round and Round it goes. When it’s gon’ stop. I, You and They don’t know, guess we ride till it drops. They won’t stop, so I won’t quit. Why it always gotta be like this. Round and Round and Round it goes. When it’s gon’ stop. Stop never got cheddar. Use that to look down and judge on my past pleasures. Past endeavours as well as past life. Cause I’m in a different spot now so criticizing seems mad right. That’s what I’m supposed to do ain’t it. No remorse to mistakes by the plaintive. Forget em’ I made it. I’ve seen this story man many many times. Show on the other foot decent men would go blind. I swear it’s crazy. Yeah homie it’s crazy. Holding on to point of views like they themselves are babies. Like they don’t grow and change. Perspectives rearrange. Now everything you thought is perverted and deranged. And this change. Ain’t weird, ill-logic, or real foreign. This is natural as the sun to our life we were born in. Some take it in stride. Some run from it and hide. But inevitable as ever we all change over time uh-huh. Round and Round and Round it goes. When it’s gon’ stop. I, You and They don’t know, guess we ride till it drops. They won’t stop, so I won’t quit. Why it always gotta be like this. Round and Round and Round it goes. When it’s gon’ stop. Forget about the losses, forget about the gains. The happiness, the pain it’s all a circle arranged. To change arrange at your discretion. You control your path with your own progression. Cause it seems with every little step in. You pay attention to what others mention. What’s the point. Keep up obsessions over exceptions. Comparisons the relative of disappointment. I see where this is going. Angry everyday explode when. You let them outside factors affect you. Forgetting you the chosen one and you blessed too. And I don’t mean blessed like religiously. I mean you have to play your part like members of a ministry. Stop them eyes from being all Christmas tree. You keep missing what you could have seen Know what I mean Round and Round and Round it goes. When it’s gon’ stop. I, You and They don’t know, guess we ride till it drops. They won’t stop, so I won’t quit. Why it always gotta be like this. Round and Round and Round it goes. When it’s gon’ stop.

I Be reading all these books with words I don't understand I Be getting all these dates and then be cancelling plans I Be thinking too much that's when I go for a drive I Be laying in the grass looking at my place in the sky I Be writing all these things but never really sharing it Be thinking the grammar lacks and it's incoherent See what I mean I Be making new words like they are dreams Then scribing letters just to send back overseas And I Be meaning home not a foreign land Even though home is a foreign land Be getting in my own way damn Scratch that let me get back to the song Be telling myself I'm doing right, when it's actually wrong And by now you can guess what this is called I Be Doing because yes I be doing it all And by now you can guess what this is called I Be Doing because yes I be doing it all Yes. Sometimes I Be Doing the most But then sometimes I probably just coast Cause I Be Doing yea I Be Doing yea I Be Doing yea I Be Doing yea I Be Doing But no one's ever told me "You be Doing" so I guess This could all be an opinion that I wanted off my chest I Be Doing yea I Be Doing yea I Be Doing yea I Be Doing yea I Be Doing some things that most regular people use to Improve your character to be better you in the future I Be thinking if the world ended would humans be alright Or would we be The Walking Dead where we shooting the folks on sight I don't know I be Doing some things that's weird And really it isn't clear Like looking through a window that's smeared So let's gon and do a wipe down Now look it's alright now I Be taking care of everybody like you all are my child And I Be saying I love you in every way (way) So please spread that love like every day If life is like cycle and all we do is rival That just means we need to Be Doing some things to coincide views Maybe our views are too deep rooted and thus contrasting And history's repercussions are forever lasting But for real I aint know That's just life how it go I Be Doing what I believe and reading Matsuo Basho Furuike ya Kawazu tobikomu Mizu no oto

Music & Lyrics by D. Gardener Music by C. Caldeira Piano by J. Kwan

Behind my mind there are prims and ish. I mean fractions divisions and ish. I mean it goes so far down the line you can’t visit the ish. And when I load I continue to sit. If you decide on my division. I’m free fallin. Mess margins. I write till the end of the page I keep balling. Like Jim Jones solo on stage. Elephants in the room and Patrice called. So just leave me with my kokinshu Confuse myself with my thoughts as I go think through. I hope that you do go improve. Know your truth and hold your tongue. Cause sometimes silence is due. They say the early bird gets the worm but I can’t tell. Jump before you look or land you in a pan-frying hell. Inferno of Dante for you path liars, habitual and rash liars. John Carrey with your pants fired. Everything will play its part we gon see And everyone you claim is late is gon be But I’ll be there right on time. I’ll be there right on time. Everything will play its part we gon see And everyone you claim is late is gon be But I’ll be there right on time. I’ll be there right on time. Let me reveal why I’m pissed off. It’s like this world got me CRISS-CROSSED. A little ticked off. They hold my heels, but I lift off. That’s space-ish like spaceships. No replacement. Leave me alone I’m all alone and can’t face it. And while she wants her face lift to make her face lit. And me I’m just sitting with my dictionary. With my poetry books and my obituary. Every time salutations when I’m running up. Everything you’ve completed but still aint done enough. They say you aint one enough. But you don’t really wanna be. Egotistical thinking that you really wanted to be. When they looking like wannabees. Included in the same clubs looking like a lame scrub. Better pass on that offer like some blazed bud. That would only just ruin all your tastebuds. Everything will play its part we gon see And everyone you claim is late is gon be But I’ll be there right on time. Yeah, I’ll be there right on time. Everything will play its part we gon see And everyone you claim is late is gon be But I’ll be there right on time. Yeah, I’ll be there right on time.