Musing: Idealism

I'm inspired by someone I've never met. The idea of the person appeals to me, not gonna lie, but I'm having a bit of a conundrum with the connotations of such. I’m a person who enjoys getting to know people and what makes them work intimately, not just their surface. Does admiring the idea of a person, appreciating their qualities when not really knowing who they are, negate whatever feelings you may have? 

The dude in the previous video? His name's Laith. I think he's super dope, in the abstract of course. I found out he's an artist and his work is really impressive. Plus, he's kind of gorgeous - like Mississippi God Damn gorgeous. The guy seems smart and interesting and...I'm a bit infatuated, can’t even fake that.

And there's the rub; my infatuation doesn't lead to love as it used to when I was younger. I’m able to recognize when I’m getting caught up in the idea over a person over their substance and take a step back. I learned that to love someone you have to know them, and sometimes knowing them isn’t really idealic. They burp, fart, and scratch themselves just like you do – they’re actual people, not perfect caricatures of your desires. I don't know the guy, but I greatly appreciate what he does (I can't draw or paint to save my life) and respect the path he's chosen to travel in this big bad world; he’s got a dopeness about him that I envy a little. So when W posed me with the proposition of writing a love poem, as I haven't written one in at least a year, for this dope dude, I kind of froze.

I feel weird about it. Could I? Definitely; my infatuation leads to dreams running wild  of road trips under blue skies and cruising listening to some classic M.J and Motown tunes. But my love poems are deeply personal and real. They’re marred with my personal perceptions of actual people who I've touched, seen, maybe even held hands with. Writing for this person who represents an idea, albeit a very awesome one, seems foreign to me. Foreign and a little fraudulent. 

I'd feel better about it if I knew the guy and could be like, 'Yo, I like what you do, here's a poem." The fact remains that I don't and even if I did, I wouldn't know exactly what to say. I'd look at him and look at me and think “Tes, who the hell are you to even think...?" and get real discouraged; he'd never know it existed, much less read it. 

But...I'm entering this new phase in my life where I do things for me, and if I feel it then why  not? I like a few qualities of the guy that, from what I can tell, are genuine traits; he inspires me to take my art more seriously, to take love and living for myself more seriously, and through the video with Christina, that love doesn't always equal the happily ever after as I'd always thought. I feel like I'm learning from what he's putting out there. So...I'll try it. I might not like it. I may love it so much I post it for the world to see. All I know is, unless I write it, until I write it, I'll never know and denying writing is like denying part of myself.

And I've found that not doing it is not as much fun, not as exciting and not as refreshing as doing it; and I think I’m about ready to just do this instead of talking about it.

We find inspiration in the weirdest of places, don't we? 

Sometimes I Forget My Creativity

It's odd how we never know how much we use a letter until we have to keep copying and pasting it. In any case, that's just what I did. And what I'm going to do again sometime this week. I just stopped by this time to leave a little piece of me that I always forget exists behind; the poet. I don't rhyme much, and I often write about love and the depth of the human mind/body/spirit...and now's no different. Sometimes there's so much going on in my head, in my heart and in my soul that there's nothing I can do to get it out. Nothing but write. I call it "Know Me"...so here goes...

If I could take all the things I feel about you

Think about you

Dream about you

And hold them in my hands

Wrap them in a gift box

A big one

And give them to you

I don't know if I could

I want you to know me

To see me

Beyond the shy smiles

And easy laughs

And into my person

Moreso 

I want you to want to

See me that is

Genuinely 

And be with me in spite of

Or because of seeing me

Officially

Not even exclusively

Okay a little exclusively

But how do I convey all that

Without seeming so so so...

Anyway

I don't want you to think

That I'm this breezy, prim and proper girl

I'm elusive

Pensive

Studious

And admittedly a little vulgar

Okay f*ck it, very vulgar

And that's not even touching the depth of me

But I'm so afraid

Afraid that getting to know a person will change me

Afraid that I'm never enough

Afraid of never being seen

Not just by you, but anybody

So how would you know?

So how would you know I'm this girl?

This funny, smart and loving girl

Who's favorite word is four-letters and can't be said in church?

Who's favorite thing to do is sit quietly and breathe deeply as if air was precious?

Who loves to joke and tease, talk and listen just as much as sit in silence or jam to music?

If all you've ever seen of me were glimpses

Shadows of the me that hides behind that veneer

That ice

That barrier that was built once upon a time when I loved too hard

And fell too quick

With no one to catch me or bandage my broken heart?

I won't lie and say I'm the model girlfriend

Because sh*t, I don't know

I won't lie and say you're my ideal guy

Because hell, you're about as gun shy as I am

And in the time that we've known each other 

We still don't know each other

But damn it, I want to

Know you that is

And have you know me too

And not just like two people

Who happen to be similar

And fall into some sh*t they don't want to be in

Just for the sake of not being lonely

I want us to be known to each other

In a way that's comfortable

If I could write you reams and reams

If I could hold what I feel for you in my hands

If I could show you what the landscapes of my dreams look like

I might

But instead

I'm either going to act like it all means nothing

That you don't weigh heavy on my mind

Conscious and subconscious

And let the opportunity to be

Be myself, be with you, be myself with you

Pass me by

Or

I'm going to throw it all in your face

In a frenzy of emotion

Of words

Of hand gestures

And with a breathless sigh

And shake of the head

Leave it all to you to decide

If you could

If you would 

If you want to

Because I want you to

Get to know me