In the land of creativity,
Are waves of relativity,
I stand in the middle, holding subjectivity.
I see that, I am held at, in a pool of black.
Standing my ground, floating in the land of creativity, wishing for connectivity…
The higher ground is where I want to be at.
My higher self and purpose…
Instead of this laziness and craziness of a circus.
I want something alive – more people.
This campus is dead.
I dread…
