The Astral Movie House

What if right after your death you find yourself alone, in a one-seat movie theatre, where you arise as if abruptly woken up from a dream.

Your ideal self-image from your life’s memories is manifested, and you look and feel, by your own opinion, as the best you ever have.

An 70mm film projector flickers, and begins rolling a film onto a realistic-as-life screen directly in front of you. A classic black and gray circular countdown starts backwards from 10, in the clearest picture you’ve ever seen, anywhere.

The film begins. Your earliest memory in life plays out as the first scene. You are taken aback. Your emotions criss-cross and crash, and finally, you understand: ‘heaven,’ ‘hell,’ and ‘purgatory’ will all be experienced here, in this single-seat movie house. You’re free to get up and leave at anytime, but the thought never occurs to you.

It all comes back, a full recap of your now-past life. The best moments invoke laughter, tears of joy, leaving you feeling like a rejuvenated soul; while the worst ones trigger despair, regret, and unkempt anger, mostly directed at your past self. But not fear. Fear is for the living.

The movie ends, and as the credits roll, every name of all your loved ones, friends, family, co-workers, people you met just once, all scroll along. You are credited as the lead role, and the director.

There you are, alone in your own private astral cinema – lessons learned, emotions drained, and at peace with your past life – a catharsis unmatched.

There’s a red EXIT sign to the right. A force within you questions where it leads, and beckons you toward it.

You rise from your chair, and walk toward the EXIT sign. It leads you around a corner to a long, maroon-carpeted hallway ending with a single door. It’s an industrial dark gray, with a few scratches, and a worn black and gold PUSH sticker on it. You stop at the threshold, take a deep breath, push it open, and walk through.

You new first memory starts. – RSM

A Cool, Quiet Mind.

Stare it down,

like your destination is already the place that surrounds you.

Stare it down,

the farthest part of the road ahead that you’re walking down.

Step by painful step, carry on, and adversity will give in,

for you are the one who will triumph;

Adversity is just the means to your ends, the road taken toward tranquility.

Patience, restraint, a cool, quiet mind-

these will turn the very obstacles that block your way into weapons you wield at the wicked, and unworthy.

Stare it down – the path, as you walk – and see how fast it begs to get out of your way. – RSM

Mind, Body, Soul, Music.

Moving to the music being pumped into my ears is a second nature; only breathing comes before it.

Sitting on a bus, going somewhere and a half, my foot moves around like it’s conducting an orchestra of what’s coming through my headphones.

My fingers tap the sides of my phone,
Head nodding subtly to the rhythm;

It’s only when I ask myself “What is there to write about?” that I realize that the music has already taken me –

Sending 4 over 4s through my veins, bass and treble through my capillaries,

nervous system fully synced with my current bop’s beats per minute, and I respond accordingly –

even while typing this, my subconscious is a subwoofer, the way I move to the music without thinking; my crown chakra tunes in to the tune’s vibrations.

I almost miss my stop, and I hurry out the backdoor, but from my seat to pounding pavement, I haven’t missed a beat. – RSM

Tha Turntable Chakra

IMAGINE imagine IMAGINE imagine

music could be GENerated, music could be GENerated

just by your thoughts… you think something, and BAM – tones, tambourines, tom-toms and other auditory tools tell a story, put on a show – justlikethat.

What if it was so simple, a subconscious rhapsody – radiating, rambling, rumbling rhythmically, with every breath you take, every move you make;

– just a series of vibrations that emerge from your mind.

No other external instrument, no other pre-requisite – just a pure, beautiful sound, decorating time.

Like an aura, but audible, able to be heard by all within earshot.

What would yours sound like?

Not a very fair question, cuz honestly, wtf – I just thought of this, and you’re not prepared, how rude of me – I’ll go first:

the song that would play would vary from moment to moment, and would change with how my mood sways from day-to-day in a never-ending figure eight,

and would oft play something trippy, dance-able, funky.

Right now, first thing that came to mind was ‘Oh My God’ by A Tribe Called Quest, so I’ll just go with that.

When people say “that’s my jam!” or “issa vibe” in response to a song, think about it – it matches the tune in their mind’s eye.

Not a lot to imagine at this point, is there?

Your soul’s song is real. So turn it up – RSM

The Rabbit Hole – Several Haikus

Is it worth risking

it all, just to find out if

it will set you free?

Peeling back layers

of each other’s tough, hard skin-

sowing seeds of trust.

Slow, sweet songs, soulful.

Melancholy peace- they call

it rhythm and blues.

When I can’t think straight,

I wonder which chakra is

most heavily blocked.

Do your job, you’ll make

a living. Do what you love,

you’ll make a fortune.

– Kelvin, Local Sage at St. John’s University

Happiness is love.

Laughter is how the soul speaks.

Life shines within us.

Sleep is important.

But not so much as writing

this haiku, dammit.

My favorite way

to be is weird. Don’t waste time

being ‘normal’ and stuff.

After a long day,

how lovely it is, darling,

to come home to you.

– RSM

Trololoneironaut / Keyboard Rapper Vol. 5

I learned lucid dreaming with hard moonlight beaming-

‘Freddie Krueger inceptions in 2019’ing.

I’ll run through your worst nightmares, shirtless-

Throwing priceless doves at you, rendering them worthless,

and just when you think that you’re safe

I jump fences like hurdles, each foot on big snapper turtles,

Using amphibious transport to travel

and torment your brain with a lyrical shower.

You speak just one tongue, but hun, call me Babbel,

I’ll word my thoughts round-right until you taste gravel-

don’t leave ya subconscious ’round me, or what have you,

I’m not one to judge, but I do have this gavel,

and until you arise I’ll be popping up behind you,

Poltergeisting hard, couldn’t sleep if you tried to. – RSM

Controlled Chaos OR Hysterical Laughter is My Love Language

A taste for thrill seeking, generally freaky,

a space for the heart rate to race and always raising the stakes,

a 6 cylinder, YOLO-powered engine, skydiving in my head, since I was like, 10,

wondering Why So many Serious moments I’ve found hilarious,

and tried REAL HARD to not bust out laughing in these Moments, Precarious.

Nothing wrong with a little anarchy contained between one’s ears,

or sprinkling a little ‘confetti di crázy’ upwards into our fine stratosphere-

Some controlled chaos to brighten up your life’s days (daze), and years.

There are mad synonyms, yo, for what I mean:

‘having fun,’ ‘just playin’/messin’/dickin’/fuckin’ around,’

‘good times,’ ‘tomfoolery,’ ‘wildin’ out,’ ‘actin’ a fool, ‘being a ‘clown.”

True disorder is what’s really frightening- like a slight miss from getting hit by lightning,

or getting stopped by the cops with contraband in your socks.

A little microdose daily of something ridiculous is what gets me through;

so that stupid smile I have on next time we meet, just might mean I’m in my own head, already making fun of YOU. – RSM

Morning Metra Meditation

To think, and act with love in every instance of my existence is the goal I have in mind.

Cultivating a peace from within is the first step;

the second, third, and fourth is to spread love outward, back onto the beings I spend this life with.

The highest vibrations are the ones I hope to be happily humming along to

as I find yet another musical journey to take while I wait

for this train’s trip to end with the start of another work day.

With steady breathing and affirmations on repeat, I remind myself to see the good and be the good in the day ahead.

-RSM

The Night Sky on Take Off

(Written August 8, 2018)

A perfect storm of clear skies make way for crystal clear streetlights

to dot the earth with grid shaped tattoos,

and if even if one or two blow a fuse, the pattern holds strong.

And all along the rising spiral off the runway

I’m reminded of how beautiful it is to fly. – RSM

Dance Loud

(Written December 27, 2017)

Let loose. Move to the beat, or way off beat, who cares?

That’s the point.

Whether you’re on a crowded, douchy, $30 cover dance floor,

Or a 1 person army, taking your living room by siege, let it all out.

Dance big. Dance loud.

Be the wackiest person in sight if you have to.
Be the wackiest person in sight if you want to.

Drown out the music with amplified moves.

Make the ground shake.

Make heads spin, while making your head spin.

Be your body’s DJ. – RSM