An Edited Self

Centered, a Centered Self was the first title I tried. Worldly, together, not too sanctimonious. Maybe true, in my room of instruments, the tapestry and swirls of incense. Brands of laid back peace and all truth told, I roll a beautiful joint. Trust in the meaning I make from the smoke. Your skin IS too beautifully brown to risk forgetting your ID. How ideas and viewpoints transform and change. The privileged fucking arrogance of even having an ID, a talisman of luck until it isn’t. It’s easier to slip into thinking time is the enemy. Fuck you, 2018! News, a…