As it turns out, the closer you get to the Mirror’s Edge, between the stainless steel and all their ever was, life either has to get more worth it somehow, or you might start doing things like getting into fights with racist street Christians. (I know ya’ll aint racist .) Death is always on my mind as a smoker, and that kinda sucks, but what’s cool about it is when the inheritance of our ancestors emerges, an ESP link, a bridge, between the thin screens of our reality into the theirs. And tonight the CROSSing takes me into a familiar place, but more alive than my dilapidating innards; her name is Kathy Heideman and she knows a thing about Bob (hope).
I see her as she sings it, she’s a fine street woman, she knows about the streets as good as anyone. When I listen to her voice I hear an awakened one. She’s always talking about the good news she got, the endless road to ourselves; the big sleep. She sings some very personal sounding things that make the more fantastically real verses of her song so immediate that I think she is telling me the truth when she says that the earth will never hold her.
If you’re an aspiring writer, you have a lot to learn from Kathy H. It’s all emotion; a multi-color tie die of shifting emotions, each with there own color, only try to feel that out with actually solid objects. When she says there is murder in the streets, she means it. When she says that it’ll be much to soon, she means it. I guess the lesson I’m taking from Kathy tonight is also perhaps what I most appreciate in her style. Live to tell the tale, even if that means live and smoke everyday. Don’t worry bro, we earned that cigarette tonight.
Wish I had more for ya’ll, but the clock ran out for the night. But if you like my stuff, you should hire me to work at your organization as a creative, or creative reporter type. HMU.
-Danny