Framing Pain

Yes, yes.

Just another day in a pretty boring life ...

I write, perform like, ignoring hype.

Polite like i was born nice.

Soar at heights where i don’t need to see.

I’m easily the type you peep at night,

& you don’t need to squint, the heat from me is bright.

When i breathe on mics it’s like i’m heaving, i

Won’t ever even odds,

I’d rather tweet or blog than be like steven jobs.

I’d rather stay & laugh than leave & sob.

I’d rather break the whole machine

Than try to limit me & be a cog.

When they ask me what i’m trying to preach, i pause.

I tell ‘em “i dunno—the difference from a demagogue & demigod.”

King size, but serving minibars,

But i assume if you consume too many

Then they’ll hit you plenty hard.

They’ll say my whole demeanor’s been a fraud,

An intricate façade.

Won’t offer no rebuttals, this is part

Of where my newfound vision starts:

A written art comparable to living hard

Avoiding prison bars.

Collected thoughts, it’s like a mini mart,

& don’t want any part

Of trendy, artificial, little pity parties

Celebrating how i made it

Out of unimaginable trauma.

It’s the drama that they want,

& so i honor

What i’ve come to do & what i’ve come into & what i want to do.

So what i’ve brung to you has sprung into a kind of comfortable

Existence i’ll call wonderful

If, after i wander through this new terrain,

I’ve found the way to frame the pain as something new.

[applause]

… here, close to the center of the united states, the sign on the highway reads “decatur, illinois: population 59,305.” from a distance it looks like any other town of its size. its people make their living from factories, stores, offices, railroads, & surrounding farms just as in many other american communities. when you meet them on main street they look as familiar as anyone’s neighbors anywhere in the united states. but go out with them & you’ll begin to sense a difference …