the rush

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Countdown is on, the song – music and rhythmic timing, harmonies and melodies crash into enticing tensions. Movement, momentum and drums – beating like the heartbeats of poi colliding with wrists, appendages, limbs and memories.

I’m in the zone and it feels like fire; it coalesces like frictional fibers as they twitch and switch it up with renewed vigor.

I only have a few more chapters to write and they are seemingly just waiting for me to wrap up a multitude of conversations and capacities, until they erupt like a fire-bomb from my fingers.

Its so weird, I still can’t believe I’m going to be a doctor. That’s a lot of potential right there and I suppose much of me lately is contemplating how it will ignite and sustain an energy of longevity. Goodness is the answer to that questionable pose. That’s what I am going to use my PhD for – goodness.

I had kōrero with my cuzzies, mother, brother and sisters over the weekend – the global future looks bleak and as I scroll through my Instagram, I wonder how much fragility all those pretty people will experience in realising we are living an unsustainable fantasy. It worries me that people have so much time to invest in their image, because no amount of imagination can halt the rising seas, the crumbling decay of Western politics and the scary situation of economic global resource plundering that signals stratagems toward war. Obama got the Nobel Peace Prize but that nigger’s admin has spent more money on weapons than has ever been spent in the white annals of history.

Presence of mind keep me constant to the flow, so that while the big world works its churning burn, I micro-manage the immediacy of my intimate reality.

It’s a rush.

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