Even if something is accelerating, and on fire, it doesn’t mean it’s heading in the right direction. Actually, very often, something that’s on fire, and accelerating, really isn’t headed in the right direction—at all. For it is plummeting.
Oh the blazing meteors of mediocrity. Sigh.
Back to the ground—grounded.
For one, don’t ever be too quick to pedal to a place where you find yourself peddling.
Asking for help is far different than asking for a hand out.
And when you get there, if you do, trust me, it’s not that deep—or that shallow. Ever. Everything has a fixed depth.
And a fixed worth. And a path to ascension.
To hear myself, I have to hold my breath under water.
If you’ve once truly loved someone, you will always be protective of them. Even if—and I find this most interesting—you now protect yourself from that person whom you once shared love.
Hands tied like laces, heart worn and leaned—like sneaker soles.
But having territory is mandatory.
Even the most decadent, multi-flavored, fantastically-packaged, marketed, and tastefully engineered cereal—is serial.
Oh, how those tan lines dance in the annuls of my summer memoirs.
Know the ledge. Knowledge.
Within the confines of your own boundaries, you can do exactly double what you’re currently doing. If you turn a jacket inside out, and expose the lining, it’s still the same jacket—just reversed. Navy on one side, gold buttons. Red floral on the other, contrast stitching.
If you’re always trying to get shiny dimes, be prepared to be nickled—and, well, dimed.
And a 10 is only a tenth of keeping it 100.
A fraction of what I’m asking.
Real talk: my man: you won’t be the last one to love her.
Seeing things in black and white means that you’ve exercised intentionality in silencing the other flashes of color.
And like that, the rest is gone in a flash.
A chip off the old block is still but a fragment of the originator.
When your heart is catching up to your brain—which is catching up with tired.
Loving someone unconditionally is a condition. Good and bad.
Passion is the intersection between an ability and a dream.
I don’t forgive as much as I try and forget.
Being lost vs. waiting to be found.
Beyond my means by any means.
My reference set could be the set—for your set of references.
Every street runs into another.
Only one mother.