This The Night Of My First Slam

Monday was cool. It started really bad. The first thing is that I totally over slept. I woke up at 8:28am and I start working at 8:30am. My morning started to drag from the very beginning. It sucked so much, I wasn't even sure if I was going to Bar 13. 4:30pm and I was ready to see where the rest of the day would take me.
After tending to some financial issues, I found myself at Barckley Rex Cigar Shop. Picked up an AVO Domaine #10 and walked down Lex to Gramercy Park, where I turned and walked down Park Avenue the rest of the way. It was a nice 40 block walk that left me thirsting for espresso. I tried to do as much as possible before walking into Bar13 but that only led me to Virgin Mega Store for a few moments, where I was totally dissatisfied. Walked out and headed to 13, but first I bumped into a new client that I met earlier that day by the name of Sarah Ra. I mention this because she was a nice person and we laughed a lot with her name. She walks into the office and says "My Name is Sarara." I say "Okay Sa-ra I understand", She says "no Sarara" I say "Yeah Sara I get it", so she says "No my name is Sarah, and my last name is Ra" I go "ohhh Sarah-Ra" It was hilarious. Really funny so it was even funnier when I bump into her and say her whole name "Sarah Ra" and she just laughs. You had to be there type of moment.

So I get to Bar 13 where the place is empty and I eat and read for a few moments and try to change my altogether mood before the night begins. Mr.Cartagena comes in first and we had a few conversation on reading with more emotion that led to some pretty cool excersises. That was fun. Then Ms. Procol and I had a lovely conversation on Lorca, writing, and Editing. It was a very good conversation. Those two people really helped uplift me so much yesterday. My mood was set for the night and I was then ready to enjoy it. I go up on the mic, make people clap a beat because I wasn't feeling their energy, and tell them to stop. Then I read my poem. That was fun too.
Four people left on the Open Mic and the slam only had two names on the list. I didn't want to see a slam like that, and I thought that I had to encourage a place that has become a Monday Staple. I lean over to Lynne and say, hey you write two and I write two and we slam. She agrees. She being the amazing person that she is writes two beautiful poems by the time I get done with the first stanza. Dude the pressure was on. I had to deliver on my promise, and make two poems fabricate out of thin air. Hey what do you know? I did it.

My first poem delt with the wonderful subject of masturbation. What a wonderful topic. The performance was what I wanted it to be. I really got into character on stage and I think that it was awesome. My first slam and I had an incredible amount of fun. I really did. I made it third place and that is not too shabby for my first time. I do wish I would have made it further so I could have read the second one, but at the same time the second one was really personal and was relieved that I didn't share it with anyone. Maybe I will read it one day, but I think that it may go in the closet for a while.

The night was educational and fun. Scores meant nothing to me, I was just proud of my efforts, because I know that my all was given. I went up I delivered and people will remember that. My favorite thing is when people comment of my poems after the event is over. People that I don't know, who thank me for my efforts. It has happened a few times before, and it feels great. That's what matters to me. The gratitude of a stranger for sharing my passion with them. It brings the greates smile to my face. I love it.

When I got home after too much damn food, I had a wonderful and scary conversation. I think too much, and that is what makes my good qualities good. My over pensive cerebral concotions. I always fnd or rediscover a new way to love myself, and last nights reading and conversation added to this love. At my moments of highest woe, I find myself, under piles of sheets and comforters. Air is thick and lungs are greedy. What else could I live for, if not for life itself.

Here is a questio for you guys. What is the opposite of life? Not death. The opposite of death is birth. Anyone want to take a stab at that one?