When you mad young you fantasize about blowing out in a blaze of infamy. When you older you take the long view. You rather leave your mark in a more creative way. Lots of my friends blazed out since I left Dominica. They rushed to the gold mine and the monster slayed them. I think about them and wonder if they ever stood a chance. Poverty is shitty but vanity is a bigger killer. I am blessed to have discovered poetry and art. It definitely gave me a new perspective. I mean I have travelled nightmare roads but I always took the shards and weaved them into art. I could never get people who just see the surface and ignore the bones. They are so scared of vulnerability. They get jaded so quickly and the rest of their lives are exercises in manipulation and facades. I could have gotten jaded but I took the art way out. There’s always another story to be chiseled. Better not disappoint the mad characters preening for their own drama. The drama never ends. Either you learn to shine it or you let other forces shape you into a disaster. You can change your fate. You better change your fate. What you gonna do? Believe in politicians or rabble rousers?. What’s the other choice? What’s the alternative to searching for goodness?