The Artificial City Of Names

Welcome to Atlanta, a city my non statistic knowing mind would call the fastest growing city in America creatively. Atlanta is saturated with young talent, and comes without the shade that Major cities such as New York and Los Angeles shoulder. Meaning the sun inside of us creators is free to shine, and be felt. It’s so many doors that await to be opened in the right direction, I just find them to be small in the grand scheme of the room, or in reality the world. Atlanta is scarily detrimental to true success, because it’s lack of shade provides so quickly, the one thing we as humans crave more than success. Atlanta provides a community of love. It provides an abundance of small doors that you can walk through and everyone on the other side knows your name, and more than less praise said name.  It is in humanity’s nature  to subconsciously believe that our true world is our city and surroundings, not Earth. This makes its so easy to get lost in a world that knows your name. I find that this is why we’re the solid foundation of one hit wonders, and of respected figures whom have never experienced true success economically and/or globally. It’s so hard to break through the ceiling of love, and the misleading goggles of you leaving a mark on the world. However  love doesn’t pay the bills, and Atlanta is not the world. I can’t speak for it’s promising future, but presently Atlanta is an artificial version of America’s longstanding creative meccas. True success (economic, and global)  tends to pass through, but often doesn’t stay. Where are the million dollar corporations that call Atlanta’s skyscrapers home? Why does some of Atlanta’s biggest names live modest lives? Why does word of mouth circulate 10x as much as actual currency?  Of course there’s money to be made, and there are more than few who break out and have a great a impact on the true world. I only write this because I find that it’s harder to grow under the false achievement of love and a name. We must stay as hungry as the nameless creators in New York. We must seek to touch those in Los Angeles. We must grow sincerely, and spend more the best of our time and money with those around us, so that the success that currently only passes through can be made infinite.

A Drunk Toast To The Best Kinds Of Plot Twists.

I’ve read that the best kind of love is one in which the soul is awakened. I am not in love, and I am unsure if it’s indeed my soul, but something endlessly divine has been awakened inside of me. It started when the best kind of friend (One in which you have to build a solid foundation of banter in order to avoid a considerable amount of maudlin conversations detailing how truly perfect they are in your eyes.) Confessed her feelings for me. Instantly I was 7 years old again, up way past my bedtime, and watching my first Sunrise. God has colored the entire sky perfectly, and I still couldn’t color inside the lines of a singular square I thought. I had never seen or appreciated such beauty before. I knew that I never wanted to miss another, and I vowed that I wouldn’t. I promised forever to something I didn’t know existed, wanted, and possibly even needed moments earlier.

 

You see, What I’m trying to say is that… this friend was everything Magical in what was my first Sunrise.

I became entranced with ideas, and possibilities that I didn’t know existed moments earlier. I saw forever in a world I had previously thought to be fleeting. I saw the everlasting beauty in everything that was her. I was effortlessly lost in the wave of newfound passion. I put a grim emphasis on the term wave because waves come and go in an ocean of forevers and foundations.

With that said, My 7 year old self,  was peacefully asleep, on time, and couldn’t even manage to capture the sunrise the very next morning.

As for my best kind of friend, maudlin conversations and thoughts of perfection possibilities quickly faded back to banter.

So here I stand with a shot filled with an ocean of Hennessy toasting to wishes of being her ocean of forevers.