The brush of your steps.

You plug it in, The data flows and knows no bound, You dance to a stream of numbers, With your eyes closed, you become one. Who are we but our senses, Consciousness would remain, But our input lets us live, It lets us grow, it lets us be. In a fantastical imitation The ants did TCP/IP, but it was us, It was us that let it be. So when you stop and dream When you fade into the illusion that one day We'll plug ourselves in for knowledge, Realize that the words of Neo did just that. As we grow into a model of our experiences, Remember that our stream of emotions is but a mimicry of the input we have seen before, And that a single song can change it all and more. Let the words transform you like before, Let it grow you once more. For that edge of glory, find my lady, Or let Mackle tell you more about the equality of ladies, We really should let it be. We intervene in the dreams of others, Because two thousand years of telephone Suddenly became the nor...

This was inspired after I went to a SpokenWord event for the first time at JavaMonkey in Decatur. Loved the experience! Perhaps I was only dreaming, Only wishing that things would fall into place, That the blocks that scattered my mind would build an empire from the rubble, But deep inside, buried under this mess I knew those words that told me to stretch out, To reach out that hand and pick everything up. Piece by piece, I had to rebuild. Don't you tell me that your dreams have fallen, Don't you tell me that its been a waste, Because when you give up, that's it, That's all you've got. Sure there's a friend, a mother, and a brother, Sure there's the heart of compassion of others, But if your heart doesn't want it, Then don't expect it. I want you to take down every wall, Take down every word against you, Step on them and build a ladder, Make it to heavens, you are greatness. I believe in you, I believe in passion. Passion...