the hardest styles abound in that spot.
it was good to span a 24hour period back where it all began.
nothing reminds you how much you've changed than going back
to where you were and seeing how different it is,
through different eyes,
and realizing that nothing stays the same for very long, anyway.
that's good for a grounded well-rounded appraisal
of your overall well-being in a developmental sense an' that,
but the real reason i was there was also a resounding success.
i think it's her:
and check the post-festivities teleport:
little miss maple, y'all.
that's the face of a future seventh grader.
congratulations go out with all my heart to that kid.
she's a sweet one all the time.
the ceremony was expert,
and the rest of the afternoon was even better.
i really love these kids of mine.
i am grateful for the time i have been given,
and for the ones i span it alongside.
the excruciating drive was a small price to pay for the rewards.
family togetherness is what's up.
and making moments into monuments of memory?
what else could i have done?
worthy mutha-'uckers do what needs doing.
that is the thing.
and then we celebrated with a faceful of dumps.
check the teleport:
y'know where they come from?
secret asian landmark and expert dumpling house.
they sell out of 'em every night.
that's no jokes.
and then they remake a batch of them every afternoon.
they aren't usually ready as early as we arrived.
lunchtime means no-dump-time.
F* that weak sauce, though, folks.
as you've seen,
we GOT they anyway.
we got ours because we have instilled fear in the proprietor.
pavlovian conditioning, even.
how many times must the rock family bring an avalanche before
the path of proper action is to just give us our goddamned dumplings?
he had his duders dump it up for us, graduation-style,
rather than inflict our ferocity on his face in front of the other patrons.
he always remembers us.
we have that sort of impactive impression-making jauns on tap.
we doo-doo that outrageous overreactivation-type sh!t.
lucky for everyone,
he got us what we wanted, and we kept the peace...this time.
now i'm back home, alone, again.
my Folk Life & Liberty Fortress is just so flippin' dope.
there's no place like it,
and i love it.
i do miss my peoples, y'all, when i leave 'em;
but i missed my spaces, too.
this man's home is a homely castle;
a stay-ugly dopeness domicile;
a sovereign stronghold for solid soliloquies on sore-losing and salty sentiments;
a redoubt of self-doubt and indifferent diffidence.....
i'm deep in the delves of the woodsly goodness.
holes on top of mountains surrounded by four walls.
is that even possible?
i think so,
because i'm sitting at the kitchen table in the middle of one.
home is where the house is-
and this citadel of really real life and warrior poetics is mine.
i'm ready for a promotion of my own.
and i want a raise, too.
i refuse to believe,
and you'll never ever convince me,
that what i want and what i need aren't exactly the same damn thing.
give me what i'm asking for.
just ask mr. chao-
it's much easier to allow me to impose my will on the universe
than to try and exercise your own indulgences for convenience's sake.
flipping out is on the menu.
it's today's special;
never quiet, never soft.....