Write Drunk, Edit Sober

by abubhaji

hemingway-in-cuba

Write Drunk, Edit Sober – By Abu Bhaji
It’s not that I don’t. I do. But if you think about it, Hemmingway had it write when he said to drunk, right? Anyway what I mean to say is this, “If a tree falls in the forest, and there’s no one there to hear it, does it make a sound?” The idea is simple and yet so many people get hung up on that one. I’ve figured it out though. It’s the same sound a heart makes, when it breaks, and no one is there to hear it. Fucking lonely at that. Ever hear a heart break? I mean, a tree fall?
We’re all alone on the inside, sometimes. Especially when we give it all away, right? Ever hear someone say, “my heart is empty?” Read the Heart Sutra, Thich Nhat Hahn would say, “empty of what?” But what if you want it to be empty? Like, giving it all away. The truth is that’s what love is all about, isn’t it?
We’re supposed to give, that’s what love is and of course, the heart’s chamber is like a little love manufacturing plant. No time for a shut-down. No time for validation. No shit, right? I work in Biopharma. We make drugs to help the heart. Ain’t that cray-cray? But really, really what I’m saying is, if you’re following me here is, love can’t grow unless you give, that if you keep it all in, stagnation? Like this Guinness sitting here. I need to manage it.
Remember when you were little? The depth of your world was your crib, soon it was your room. It grew into the house, then the yard. You learned how to ride a bike and your world grew to the neighborhood. You still wondered what lay beyond, like the other side of the creek, right?  I could remember the creek and the rope swings, like when Darin accidently shoved a branch up Lyle’s ass. Lyle swung into it but still, it was surreal. I felt for him. But, sorry, I was saying, your world is the neighborhood. You grow up some, you get your license, your world expands to the town you live in. Suddenly, you commute, you work, you travel, and the world opens up more and more…
Love is like that too. Your understanding, your definition changes right? You grow into it, with it. At first, you love your parents, if you’re lucky, you get some good ones. Family, that’s where you learn a little about it. You make friends, you learn about love by way of friendships, until you ‘unfriend’ one and they get all pissed off. I haven’t talked to Russ in ages, like seriously.  But it’s all a little learning. You see, like your world expanding, love does too, your capability to love does too, but it can only grow, you can only visit new places, travel with love, hit all the continents, by giving love, by remaining empty, right? Give it all away. That’s what it’s about, love anyway, right? I would give everyone in this planet a little piece of me if I could. Reach out. It’s easy. Be selfless for a minute and fuckin’ give. Connect. Care. Practice that shit and you will find you’re giving it up while sleeping! Ever wake up and think, ‘did I love someone in my sleep last night’?  You know what I mean. But now that you bring it up. Yes, it’s obvious that when they call it ‘making love’ it’s for a reason; it’s about giving. If you’re thinking about yourself, you aren’t making love. You have to admit, in that department, I did pretty good, yeah? Meaning you always knew, right? Hey, I like when we fucked too; so much. I may be a barfly but I’m a man too, damn it. Sometimes, you just got to, you can’t help it. Remember when you punched me in the eye? Haha… ‘member that?
You were all concerned I’d get a black eye and me, I wanted one. I wanted to go into work and have all them people say to me, “how’d you get a black eye?” so I could say, “fuckin!” Haha… okay, yeah, okay…
Talking about getting fucked. So here we are, now. You’re in the room. I’m out here. There’s too much irrelevant distance. It’s a malignancy, can’t you see? I know, I know this world is unforgiving and so few people give a damn. I say you ought to do it though. I think more people ought to give a damn. Manybe more than love. Manybe they ought to think about that, about giving it all up. Damns. Give all the damn you’ve got. I do. I give a damn, at least one, every day. I probably give too much damn, that’s probably my problem. You can’t deny though, this world would be a better place. Our world, anyhow. How are you now, by the way? Better? I hope so. I miss our conversation.
But we were talking about love. So this is what we talk about when we talk about love? Now, I get it. But the point is, “does a tree make a sound, when it falls in the forest?” Think about that. Most people get hung up on that. But if you were to give, give love, like to everyone, connect, care, it’s like planting a little seed, isn’t it? “I am a part of all I have met…” isn’t that what Tennyson said, why not make that part love? It’s like planting a little seed. Something to nature a little, to manicure, to grow up and you’ll have a forest, you know? A forest in your heart, a forest of… Did I spend too much time in my forest? Can’t see the forest for the trees? Is that my forest, I mean, my problem? I’m too much like Smokey the Bear, and shit.
What was that Hemmingway said again? “Write one sentence, one single truth.” 
Ain’t that the truth?