The world is so quiet. The light from the sun is bouncing off my mahogany wood floors, casting a golden brown everywhere, it’s beautiful. I lit my Nag Champa incense, and turned on my iPod dock, and now Amy Winehouse’s Frank album is occupying every space of my home. I don’t mind, even if the neighbors do. I fell asleep with James, Robert, Mahatma, and Muhammad watching over me, and I made it through another night. I woke up, thinking of my Mother. I miss her so much my body aches. I’d like to think she lives in the Sun, which in her physical absence, is my absolute favorite thing. I thought about my vulnerability, and my growth that has stemmed from it. How I’m discovering so much about myself; always cautious to not re-create, yet reform. I love me for everything I am, that of which I am not, and all that I aspire to be. I would write more, however, Henry David Thoreau once said “How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live..” so i’ll enjoy all this sunday morning has to offer, forget about the dominion technology has over my life, and roam. Peace[.]
-JCNI
Jes, The Nomadic 