Please unfasten your seatbelts and push your chairs out of the way

for an immersion in the feeling of things

Immerse me
in swaths of soundlight.
No need to say 
what it all means — 
I mean —
shut the fuck up
and listen.

Listen  

Listen to the beat the sound the heat the recollection of curious things emerging from one breath one moment one sense of harmony with all these pieces exploding.

A gift.

Stillness begets movement. 

Notice. 

Today is one of those days where everything’s flowing. Woke up, listened, moved, played outside, listened more, danced and grooved, soaked in the sun, wrote, read, wrote some more, made banana bread, moved more, moved more, moved more, had a few orgasms, (your body is one giant clit, he observed) moved more, inhaled deep, sat down, wrote a poem, moved more, made a bowl of yummy, sat again, started writing this.

A near constant state of listening, transitioning, opening to the mystery of the next thing, taking note, learning something. 

I started the morning with drum and bass. UgH. Yes.

A few songs punched me deep in the gut and from there, it was on. The power network integrated,  activated, full force glowing. No stopping me today. No how, no way. No matter what’s happening, I’m here for it.

Free flowing, Strong and open.
Waves coming and I’m catching all of them.

Dive in. 
The water’s fine,
I promise.

There’s nothing better than a day immersed in sensation. If I could choose to never talk again and only feel everything, I would. I would! Put me in an underground club in London (with him, of course - two beautiful organisms expanding and contracting as one unit) and let go.. I’ve always preferred showing my work. 

I used to get fucked up all the time. This is what I wanted.

This presence.

I remember the years trying to arrive… somewhere. Here. You can’t get here from there. 

It’s all here bridging the synapses. 
170 beats per minute 
drumming through my nervous system. 

You have to decide to sink in.

What’s more important? That to-do list, or this now feeling? And I don’t mean to be pragmatic, except I always have been. Who knew moving to the rhythm was the most effective way of becoming… everything. Everything you are anyway. Purpose is a curious thing because… I put more work on my plate and suddenly everything is happening like the sea. It takes care of itself. It takes care of me. Or am I doing that? A blank canvas with a bit of creative programming.  

Immersed in soundscapes and sensations, everything is happening anyway.

Here’s my opinion: enjoy the rhythm no matter its shape. I read all these words of all these people and so much I wanna scream “shut up! won’t you all just shut up!?” Not because I don’t wanna hear it (okay kinda cause I don’t wanna hear it) but mostly because I know you all need to shut the fuck up and listen to your body. Your minds are just… overactive. Don’t you think? Well of course you do, that’s all you ever do. Listen to the play of your own thoughts.

There is, you know, something beneath that. Beneath the constant nonsense. Beneath the voices in your head. I mean FUCK.  Don’t you ever dance? And I don’t mean some half-assed shit. I mean DANCE. Drop down all in it. Your heart, your hips, your nether bits, your brain pulsing with noise and brilliance. Not word noise. The other stuff. Feeling. From eyeballs to chin to belly button to toes and pinkies and spine tingling and every crevice connecting the whole thing. Don’t forget your booty (the seat of power. really). Why are you still reading this? It’s time to move baby. Move it, move it, move it. Fuck the pain away. A timeless turn of phrase; don’t you listen to the teaches of Peaches?

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For your listening pleasure