beach of night.

there is nothing but darkness here.

darkness in the sky. 

darkness under the feet. tangible darkness. 

little grainy pebbles of darkness that slide between the fingers that try to hold them.

its ominous and foreboding. a slump of world with no sun to guide the lost. 

and so its inhabitants wonder without purpose. without cause. thus, they are a meaningless people. 

but few find reason. what they cannot see, they hear. 

life crashing against the darkness somewhere far off into the unseen.

following nothing but their own desire to see something, to know something, to find the world anew, they wonder purposefully.  on a mission. 

following sounds. learning the texture of that which blinds them. that which binds them. 

their heavy, unremovable dark is bearable but old and unfulfilling. 

these that seek the other find something more.

amidst the unrelenting nothingness, they find the ocean.

an ocean of light. bright, inviting, cutting light. it covers the black ground with a crash to prove its worth and power just to recede to show its slow hand to anger.

the thirsty find this lake of light and submerge themselves within never to be seen by the night again.  some sink to the bottom and touch the black soil beneath. some float at the top. others swim around simply elated to know something other than nothingness. 

here we can see everything. we are not blind. we are not ignorant. our light cuts the night. it is our beacon. it is our refuge. we are no longer lost for this light has shown us everything. it holds life. it is life.

oh, me? i walk atop the lake of light, for someone must bring the thirsty to the drink. 

full circle.

i believe in Karma fully.
"Give and it shall be given unto you[..]," so says the Bible. i like to think that this also applies to the negative we feed into the world.

ie: i was a total dick to my step-father. entirely. though we never got along in my childhood, i can look back now and see the error of my ways. i was wrong a lot of the time. made his job that much harder for no reason. (but i was still a damn good child. don't trip.) and now, i'm receiving the same treatment from the man i probably inherited such a trait from. Living with Tarrance sr has become something of a nightmare. the Devil deceives with creature comforts. its not until we accept his gifts that he begins his torture. i have learned my lesson. he is not the man i had hoped. he is not a man i wish to associate myself with. he is hardly a man i'd wish to introduce to my children. and certainly nothing of the kind of man i'd wish to emulate.

i have humbly apologized to my Dad (Herbert James Moore II) and am currently trying to sever intimate tides with my father (used lightly(Tarrance Bernard Foster Sr.)).

ie2: Tarrance (now known simply as Sr.) has four children. he raised none. recently he went to check on his 17 year old daughter in Gary, Ind and was surprised, to say the least, to find that she was with child. in what could possibly be known as the most mature moment of his life, he decided to take the girl and her baby and bring them here, to vegas, with him. though this is a great and honorable thing to have decided,  helping another lost soul escape the pit of Gary, he has no clue how to raise a baby...yet alone a teenage girl. having never raised a child or even been in the presence of the same person for more than three years consecutively, this is going to show him what hes been avoiding for all these years. for once in his life a father will be a dad, even if it is to his grandchild. and its about goddamn time. deadbeat.

tread lightly, world. your ills do come full circle.