A makeshift guide to recognizing poetry outside of paradise.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Let's get together and feel alright
Feeling wayy relaxed after spending a week on Negril's 7-mile beach ... highlights included incredible food (if you're ever in the area, I recommend Niah's Patties), some of the best live reggae I've experienced, many lackadaisical walks with my feet in the surf, and a last-minute procuring of tickets to the MarleyMagic outdoor reggae festival, in which we witnessed Damian, Junior and Stephen Marley pay homage to the pride of the island. Wishing I-and-I were still there, but satisfied to be back in Baltimore with a tan and a rejuvenated level of positivity.
"Life's dirty. Life's unclean. It's birth, it's sex, it's the intestinal tract. One big squishy, unsanitary mess. It never gets any cleaner either. You know, dust to dust, worms crawl in, worms crawl out, right? Even though we know that, we still walk the walk, we still live the life. We're like a bunch of little kids. Little kids, you know, we jump in this big old pond of mud and we're slapping it all over our face, rubbing our hair all down our backs and we're making these glorious, gooey pies. That's us. We're fabulous."
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