"Hold fast to dreams,
For if dreams die,
Life is a broken-winged bird,
That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow."

— Langston Hughes

I got this poem from my friend's site. It can be easily romanticized and evoke an "awww" from a mushy gushy person. I guess that means I'm not mushy gushy; call me cynical, questioning, etc. I agree with him with the idea that vision, dreams, and purposes in life are the things that drive us, and without them life becomes lifeless, a flame without heat.

But what if the dreams are too far? What if they're too lost in themselves? What if the harsh realities set in that we still need to eat, and take care of our kids, and pay the biils? What if our firm grasps onto these dreams start taking their tolls on everything around us? Will we then become like the prodigal son that "comes to his senses?"

What is the real sense to follow? What is the best common sense?

Questions. I have questions, Langston.

I stayed up until 6 AM recording this little thing. It started off with the rhythm elements from James Brown's "Get Up (Sex Machine)," and mutated into something totally different. Tell me what you think. The file is called "Trapped.mp3," click here to download. It's below the link to the Talib song.

"This morning, I woke up
Feeling brand new and I jumped up
Feeling my highs, and my lows
In my soul, and my goals..."

— "Get By," off of Quality, Talib Kweli's recent album release

Man, this song's been growing on me. The gospel choir elements are quite catchy, to say the least, and it's something I've left on repeat for a while. Click here to download it. Get the album, if you like it!

I went to the free Shane Barnard/Shane Everett concert tonight at College Ave. Two different opening acts also filled the night. They were all pretty good, passionate, intense about what they were doing: worshipping God and divulging their ministerial intent.

The whole night lit my mind abuzz with everything I've been mulling in my head the past few weeks. Seeing the talent there made me question the amount or lack of talent that I possess. What do I have to offer? What could I possibly do, if I can't even write a song, if I can't even assemble a cohesive work of art?

I racked my brain as Shane and Shane wailed out their harmonious odes to God. I racked my brain for the truth of my situation, thinking "God, oh my God, oh, my God, what am I doing?"

****

"There are two colours in my head. What was that you tried to say?" - Everything In Its Right Place, Kid A album, Radiohead

I have been telling everyone that I'm thinking about ending my run for a Ph.D. in biomedical engineering and ruminating about entering the music industry. "Maybe I'll go into audio engineering or production," I say.



God, I wish I wasn't so messed up. I wish there would be one colour, one flavor, one direction in my head instead of the chaotic jumble. I wish I could truly see the reality of the Gospel of God's love and live a truly changed life. Then I look into the mirror and see someone that is utterly lost.

"God loves you," I hear. What was that you tried to say?

"I Promise..."

A lesson that God's taught me too often is, "Don't make promises that you don't have a real heart to keep." It only ends up in making you flaky, your word less credible, and hurting/causing inconvenience to the person with whom you made a promise. My goodness, how inconsiderate.

God, have mercy on me, on all of us.