a human life is a funny thing.

even just imagining the very concept of it all.

the meaning of a life;

of the person who happens to own it.

life really comes down to tomorrow.

a currency that shames all others

the comforting sickness

of those three simple syllables.

i guess it's fairly appropriate

it also happens to be one of the few words

that has no real fucking synonym.

seriously; go check right now if you think i'm full of shit.

i fucking hate tomorrows.

tomorrows are fleeting concepts.

bits of emotional foreplay;

the blank crescendos of life

a climax eluding even god himself.

life isn't something tomorrow owns;

life is the symphony of today.

life is this very moment.

life is the cacophony of humanity itself.

so breathe

sing

dance

laugh

cry

walk

run

write

eat

fight

fuck.

tomorrow, tomorrow,

they may love you tomorrow

but by then

it'll just be today.

so why hope for something good tomorrow,

when you can make this singular moment

great, amazing, even perfect;

all by yourself.

they say tomorrow is promised to no one.

but today?

today is different.

today is the one thing

we have to break all by ourselves.

Sometimes it's when your nose is able to smell out what your tongue is in jubilant agreement with, be that a cookie or a loved one. Sometimes I find it when watching certain movies with songs that couldn't be replaced to evoke the emotion or provoke the stimulation of "goosebumps". I believe good is when each sense truly understands and agrees with the stimulus provided, usually a simpler task when given substance to ease mind, it's so much more overwhelming when it is acquired without it. Good has always been cinnamon to me. Good is Once, the movie and soundtrack. Good is Garden State and soundtrack. If what you are seeking is what makes a person good in respect to evil or bad, I find I might struggle to answer as saying what makes a heart happiest is good can be met with someone that is given to a body of religion(any) where the misery or plight of others is okayed. "Mmmm what you say? Oooo that you only meant well...well of course you did...Mmm what you say? Mmmm that it's all for the best? Of course it is...Mmm what you say that it's just what we need , you decided this." Sometimes I have to feel like the workings of the universe know when to move me, that I'd be hearing this lyric and writing about this at the time I mention answering the final question...That's good.

Good isn't great, but it's not bad either. Good is the happy medium like the content among the blissful. The acceptable over the untollerable. The kudos instead of the promotion. Good can be a cover for bad and mask for the sad, but it can also be a smirky downplay of something better. It's meaning is in the execution...

"Good on you!"

"Oh, no.. it's good."

"Good job!"

"Good Graces."

"You did good." (never mind that people do things -well-)

"Good night."

"That's a good one."

"Good News!"

"We good?"

"We're good."

"Good Friends."

"Good Game!"

"You're good."

"Good condition."

"Right here is good."

"Uh... pretty good."

"Good save!"

"Really Good!"

"Good enough."

(Like a) "Good Neighbor." (StateFarm is there.... ahem)

Type "Good" enough times and it begins to look foreign. Maybe it is. Maybe that's why it has been used so diversely. Good is not just one thing or even one degree. Good is like temperature in its variant fluctuations, punctuated by tone and delivery. Spoken or written, it comes down to the interpretation.

Perception. Good is a matter of perception as much as anything can be. Good to one is bad to another and some can't even define it. Good is a compromise, for which we're often willing to settle.

|| another-proser ||

I walk,

Who knows where.

Not me,

Because I really don't care.

Home boy walks up to me,

And says with a smile:

HWhat's good?

No what's up,

Or hello, hey,

How's it goin,

Wassup, or hiya.

They ask me:

Have you eaten enough today?

How much have you been through

In the past week?

Is your family ok?

Do you need to talk?

Still in school?

Need anything?

Cops bothering you?

Still working?

Anybody need some ruffin' up?

Is it too much?

It's not easy,

Surrounded on all sides by

Someone else's land of liberty.

The land I'll never see,

Because I was born as I am,

Me.

I could cry like my heart desires,

But the screets didn't raise a punk.

Neither did my parents.

And so we each reply with the

Usual 4 worded compliment.

"Same old same old"

Y'know?

Rather not trouble one another,

With even more junk.

A silent reminder,

There's nothing we can do.

How can we carry on,

When the weight of two worlds?

Maybe if we believed a little more.

But life is good

As they say,

It's just another day in paradise

Another day to live

And walk forward into

What may come.

It was a good day