Crewd Podcast #5

RH

Thursday Thoughts: 2/8/18

Like it was stated in the introduction, not everything on this site is supposed to be one thing. Everything is accepted and welcomed for expression. The site is a canvas and is a welcoming to all things that derive from thought. It’s been sports and podcast heavy since the takeoff, with a few things sprinkled in here and there, but ultimately the world has many different gears. All of those gears are used to drive the car, and the users and contributors provide the fuel. With that being said, another weekly addition will be added to the site, mainly for artistic or reflective, thought-provoking purposes. Or simply personal expression. It’s called Thursday Thoughts and I’d like to start it with my latest piece from a recent experience I felt inclined to pen.

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She’s the type to change her songs halfway through, right after she hears her favorite part

She’s one of those people

Those are usually the worst type of people

Something tells me she’s the best type of person

The life off her lips is intoxicating

Potent even, under the spell of her painted haze

She created a living picture with no canvas

And did it effortlessly

Anxiety is a bitch but somehow she put it in its place with only a few words

The walls were extravagant

Soul decorum

Painted with that energy of one that she was so eager to school me on

A room that felt like home in a location with no address and not a shred of evidence for time

An infinite energy that caressed my psyche

Couldn’t tell how

Don’t know why

But I did know her

Even though I didn’t

We were screenwriters for a movie never meant to see a screen, but still meant to be sceene

In all honesty

She set the pace, I just treaded water in the midnight oil we used to paint

And I can’t swim

But somehow I floated

Her words were a million miles a minute

Based on her past

It seemed like she could fit her million miles traveled into one minute and still be ready for the next 10 million

She exists in an area code so foreign to me

Yet somehow it’s familiar

Ecstasy is in her blood as she’s surrounded by dopamine

Her highs are as low as one can get

In the best way possible

It felt as if we could have created string theory with our thoughts that night

Till forever was yesterday

And time was as perishable as money

But my money forced me to my sobering home

For a test of tomorrow

My ecstasy was gone but I never felt sad

Only happier for having it ignited

If only for a few hours in this living canvas

She was ready for the next song

I was still seeing music in the picture I took

And with no energy

I felt all of it with one flash

She had the best taste in music

She is the best type of person

Jordin M. S.

This particular piece can be found here along with a full slate of previous work here.

Check it out. See what you like and what you don’t. If ever you have any personal submissions you’d like to put up be sure to let us know. This space is as much yours as it is ours. Thursday’s are for thoughts.