Better to talk about the stone in Egypt and the stone in America than study with the old folks who know the map of America. Its culture. Its ideas.

Who do you revere Thomas Jones? What is your real name Yao? Where is your adrenal rush at night when you look at the stars?

Better to tell a young woman on the street to forget what happened last week than to forget the what was done to us.

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Reclaim your cultural memory. Forget Yesterday.

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Study the past.

Live in the moment.

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What was done? An intellectual lie. A by and by lie. A back broken existence. A never never never land lie.

Coming and going with crucifix. Somebody rises to the occasion. Somebody dies on the occasion. Somebody tells you to forget what happened to you. Somebody tells you to forget to die. Somebody tells you to forget. Somebody tells you a lie. Somebody lies. Somebody lies on you up against you in a ship. Somebody lies on you right here, right now, and somebody tells you to forget. Somebody presses against you.

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The sun repeats. The earth repeats. The season repeats. Each year the gladiola repeats. But the repeat is not the same. The tide come in day early begin, first cycle, then it change, like a woman who left something important out of her trip to the store, it come back, it come again. The low tide, high tide come. The Sundiata of it. The majesty of heroes. The sun is a boat in the sky. After the dark time it rises again.

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Teach me to look into your eyes. Teach me to listen. That is how we got here. By watching what repeats. By listening to what sings in the world. Yes, we made war. Yes, we resist; but we know God here because God is on repeat.

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When you speak of the lost empires, do not forget the simple like us, who know the sounds and rhythms of the day. When you know of knowledge, do not forget the knowing that the unknown is constantly around us and worthy of contemplation is not known by most. Know that what you learn in the dark is your spinning in the unknown.

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Most dark is shades.

What darkness is complete.

Pitch black is metaphor for the impossible.

Triple Darkness?

How bright the light in the pitch dark.

Towards eternity.

Towards beginning and end.

Towards Free Black Space.