DENNY PHAN

Cycle: Reality.

In perspective, it’s all relative. The endless cycle of this, school, work, me, you, and that almost seems repetitive, predictive, and known but in retrospect, it’s all relative. The wake up, wash, rinse, work, and the recycle is all but exhilarating, nothing short of safe. Simply, I’m circling with life looking to fall out of line, but constantly watching my steps in preventative beat. On any regular, this daily deal is restless. 

But, it’s all relative. All the restless repetitions are relatively circling me back to consistency; solid basics of necessity and happiness. I’m proud of my daily consistency, my daily deals pushing me forward toward success and reality.

While you deem life boring, I know it as consistency. Catch me on any single day and I’m still grinding without complaint. 

Suck it up, life is not a movie. 

Happiness.

And yet the feared is inevitability present and never two steps from now. We pray that joy lingers for always but we need to learn that happiness is not without work. Not without effort. Not without care. This assumed theory that good is accompanied by forever and that smiles bring happiness is so far from the truth. Solo happiness is completely pointless when unpaired for duality is what really provides choices. Choices to be happy, choices to feel good, choices to love. Without these choices, we continue on solo in this world. Nobody wants to be limited and everybody wants choices. But, we must show effort in order to obtain these choices, and we must choose wisely in order to maintain them. I want to forever die trying because you are one of my greatest choices.

Swag.

Swag is nothing but overrated over-confidence. While you strut down pavement floating on your limited editions, rockin your lid to a 45, and flexing those unnatural muscles in your face to cover up lingering soft insecurities, know that you are no different than we; we the real people with real faces and real direction. We’re moving forward as you stay swaggin in place. 

Solid.

Harmonizing beats of solitude lay waste to present feel
as I bask in this here beautiful deal.
All real we knowingly feel,
the solidified sense of hopeful forever contained here;
beating, breathing a sigh of relief as it acts as thief to hopeful surreal.
As reality sets in, so does motion and,
here we continue hand in hand, always solid and still,
in a world of commotion.

Hi-Def.

Stitched in time we stay moving under these falling brights.
In that nights height, we were higher to the lights we aspired on sight. 
And, spaciously speaking, aspirations were granted, and I
overwhelmingly fell to the infinite feels that were implanted.
And I’m just sayin,
I’m surrounded by artificial and you’re the closest thing to real I’ve seen;
Searching for inconsistency, I was trying to read within the lines between. Yet,
Chronological sequence of realness were removed from the excess useless.
And hell yes, nevertheless, it must be confessed that impressed I am, by
this situational deviation of late nights that force time to fly and defy
all that had previously caused cynicism and negativism. 
Wiped away lay slayed the array of hopeless match play replay;
And here I am today, 
definitely surprisingly trying to convey the real feels that reveal
that I am exactly where I need to be. /

Chasing Pavements.

Rise; Rinse; Rest; Repeat. 

I’m suffocating under this circular mindset of every day actions, recycled thoughts, repeated conversations, systematic stimulations. Life is blurring not because of time, but because of repetition. I’m becoming engulfed in flat social remedies, turning three-sixty from mental invigoration, shrinking its capacity to the superficial; shutting the depths of wonder, amazement, and excitement into the past. Hypocritically, I’m years lost, months behind, and minutes too late.

Absent are the gripping passions of non-sensical matters that filled my days and nights. I used to sit there hours on end scrolling through endless pages of architectural designs, urban graffiti art, sick poetic rhymes, independent short films, opinion articles, political satire; I searched beats, rhymes, technology, love, hate, style, taste, the good, the bad, and the fckin ugly. I was DRIVIN BY PASSION; MOTIVATED; INTERESTED; HUNGRY. 

WHERE THE HELL AM I AT?! I was a noticeable individual in this place of similarity, yet I’ve now lost the uniqueness that defined me. So much is moving around me that I’m blurring into the crowd, silencing my mind, and flowing with the winds. 

Change is here with concrete thoughts as the autumn leaves cover these concrete pavements. Here’s a toast to the season, to change, to redefining, to re-prioritizing, to re-stimulation, to re-instituting uniqueness, to re-charging the passion, to re-facing my goals, to fckin re-direction.

Let’s chase new pavements and do it movin. Simple.