Maybe it's Me.

I sometimes have fear that it will all go away.  That every step I have taken will magically disappear overnight like ripples in a pond.  That the thing I have worked so hard for will be lost in a moment. I always fear in something that perhaps doesn't exist.  Fear governs us all is not just within myself.  I wonder a lot of things.  What would happen if I woke up and it was over, is it ever really over?  I stood on what felt like the edge of the world and declared to the world I was ready, but was I? Neivness is crucial because if we knew everything what would be the fun?  Is this really fun though? The struggle, if it was supposed to be why does it seem so fragile?  The questions flood my mind like a river with no dam. I always question, I always ask why.  The discontent I always feel has helped me but could Manhattan be slowly slipping away from my grip.  When this lease goes up will it find me again? Did I ever have it?

I wonder sometimes if I loved it more then it loved me.  You must be careful what you wish for.  I wake up sometimes in the middle of the night, look around my room and feel content with my desicion.  Although I'm never content with where I am at.  Like a shadow, most days I wonder if this is it.  Have I reached my point? Did I do everything and could I go away? I guess that's the thing about dreams.  It takes a life of their own, exceeding expectations you never knew and taking you on a ride you didn't foresee.   With your original idea in mind, life happens and you find yourself analyzing if people understand it or if it fully was brought to life the way in which you saw it.

What's there to be afraid of?  I know this life is short and I know you only live it once, this fact doesn't scare me.  Leaving New York scares me.  But why? As if I couldn't do this anywhere else or perhaps I wouldn't be pushed the way in which Gotham does.  It will peel you out of your skin.  It's ruthless even if you start out nice.   To what extent do you need a city to capture your dream? When is it time to go? Most people don't make it a year, I'm almost on 3.  Maybe it's not even New York, maybe it's me.

Fighting for a dream ain't easy, but every fail and every tear has been worth it.   New York brought out the fighter in me.  Makes you realize why you do certaint things.  When it comes to your life, you have to decide, once you do the path is then put in place.  New York taught me that, we are all just people that have an idea.  That thought certain things and get to see it unfold in front of us.  That's a life worth living no matter where you live.

Say Fu💨k It.

I know that when you read this,

It will find you well.

The message, my dear.

Is deeper than the sky.

When you look up there's holes.

We call them stars.

My dear, listen.

I have seen you grow.

Seen you believe.

It's madness I tell you,

No matter how you cut it.

But if you don't at least try.

You might as well say "fuck it"

Album Release.

When I look around the faces, the people. All artists facing a journey that comes with no map, yet we still believe. When a life more simple lays within arms reach.  I am a small town girl with just an idea.  To be sown, from the moment a seed drops. When it meets the soil, it starts to grow. From a seed to a flower, it thought always it was bigger than it was. Perhaps hasn't been, yet.

I never thought, never.   To be standing on the greatest stage of my life.   To know my voice is all that is heard, it's never easy.  I have the biggest falls with that, cause I don't know.  When I write I can only be honest cause that's all I know.  Truly.  It's all I can give. I stood and saw the faces, the people. 

My only wish is that they could see me.  Hartlee, Turtle, Bird and Issac.  To dream in this world is a splendid thing.  Forever.  I am who I am because of the children I love.  Call me a dreamer,  a believer  but at least I'm honest. 

From the bottom of my soul, the people that supported me tonight were beyond anything I could ever hope. Dream.  A rare energy, an eclectic crowd. When I sang Mama, I saw eyes roll back into their heads, a thoughtful process.  I knew then that it was worth it.  Even if it was a handful. That the connector was beyond me, that a voice in music was needed. The binder is missing. I saw people put their iPhones down and converse and drink and be merry.  Such a beautiful sight.

It's moments like this that I wonder, how did it come to be?  But then I recall his face in the rear view mirror.  The angels on my flight back from London.  The wine I drank with my mom and my sisters after not sleeping for 32 hours. I remember walking in the most beautiful summer grass, and my toes getting wet from the dew that comes from a hot summer night.  The sunshine was about to retire so the most golden of hue lite the sky. My finger tips love the feel of the cat tails that grow wild, although I'm weary of the poison ivy that greens right beside it.  When you walk through the tunnel you will see the most gorgeous lake, if you happen to catch it at dusk consider yourself lucky.   It was there I declared to the sky.  It was there I said some magic words,  that I wanted to make something beautiful out of something painful.  That I trusted the world, whatever that may be.  3 years later I released To Be Sown and couldn't be more grateful. 

1. re·lease

   riˈlēs/

   verb

   1. 1.

      allow or enable to escape from confinement; set free.

      "the government announced that the prisoners would be released"

      synonyms:

      free, set free, let go/out, allow to leave, liberate, set at liberty; More
   2. 2.

      allow (something) to move, act, or flow freely.

      "she released his arm and pushed him aside"

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   noun

   1. 1.

      the action or process of releasing or being released.

      "a campaign by the prisoner's mother resulted in his release"

      synonyms:

      freeing, liberation, deliverance, bailout; More

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   2. 2.

      the action of making a movie, recording, or other project.

      
      

      
      

      
      

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Spring.

I remember now.
So foundly.
Like the way wet grass feels in the summer.
Despite the weather
The rain that comes
The snow that goes.
The way the mushy earth feels.
I always look forward to sping.
As it reminds me to be reborn.
To try again,
To prevail,
And to turn another page.
Start, maybe.
Perhaps the worst is behind us.
Maybe it's not.
But soon,
That same brisk night will meet us again.
They will put on more layers.
Rush home at night.
They will moan about how muggy it is.
How they don't sleep right at night.
But tell me one thing...
When that seasons change
Can we remain the same?

The Next Generation of Jazz.

http://nextbop.com/blog/danierintobesown

Gotham.

New York doesn't mind.
The story is richer then yours.
Dreams come here.
To fly.
Most to die.
Yet you come.
It's not dark.
It's unforgiving.
This city I call second home.
Leads me beyond the child that never
Saw.
Perhaps.
Its a big bad world.
Outside your front door.
It's bigger then you.
Cause dreams only mean
Something to you.
Unless you forgot.
Whether here in New York
Or Denmark.
To Antarctica
And Greenland.
Dreams I tell you matter.
In small towns or not.
If you want to become though you become here
Pay for an education
Or get one here
For free.
Means nothing to her.
She wants feeling and that's what she wants.
A try.
A care.
A respect.
If you don't give her that
You will become what was.
Dreams come here to become.
It doesn't matter if you are here or there.
The bigger the dream the more freighting the scare.

Wind.

You nudge me
Meets in the middle of the night
It's almost like we are playing a game
Yet I can never see you.
Tag, your it.
When you come close to me.
Your always there
Yet sometimes I don't feel you
Then I do.
Then think how I could ever forget
Running wild
Glistening in the sun.
Golden hair.
My eyes matching the sky.
I could run for miles.
Cause you carried me.
Now I only sometimes feel you.
I wonder where you go.
Caught between concrete, I suppose.
But it's moments like this
When the coldest gust
Hits my face
I'm reminded of you.
And how you never truly leave me.