written by Saul Williams
This is written by Saul Williams (my favorite writer/poet):
Deep down on the ocean floor a diver came upon a door at the base of a mountainside that stretched into the blue. He knocked three times and waited. Slightly scared, he hesitated before pushing on the door and swimming through. The door shut right behind him as the brightest light did blind him. He closed his eyes then squinted, just enough, so he could see. To his surprise, before his eyes a city that was made of lies was glowing in the distance on a hill that couldn’t be.
Could it be? Who’d believe it? Is that all a vision needs, just the sustenance of breath and the hopes of one who bleeds? Is it how we hold our visions, how we tilt them in the light, that allows their possibility to be more than could or might? And what if “might” were possibility not just strength and muscle heap? Or must we muscle possibility to be all that it can be? Make conditions. Fuck conditionals. Manifest your every dream. But then what becomes of ego…
the downward beam.