Perfect

Time stands still for the performer who stops short of perfection. I love what I do, but that is not who I am. And the idleness that comes from decelerating out of a performance, a set, or an entire gig makes me restless. I can't sleep. I want to stay up all night, studying ways to make my street show better, and the effects stronger, and the delivery more compelling, and the tip lines more selling. But for what? I must keep reminding myself why I practice: for the service of others. There is much to practice in the ways of light and good through this practice, and they're cleverly hidden in the crevices of what I'm studying. I've been so technical lately: so exact. So exactly what is my goal? To become the best? To top myself night in and night out? I want to loose self, and loose my eyes in my heart. I want to radiate something positive into the crowds I conjure before. If I do it well, than my messages can be clearer. Immaculate reception. I don't know why I'm trying to do what I do so well. Maybe, it's just love. You want to do a God job: perfect. I have sharpened every angle of every set and effect I do, and it's never-ending. There will never be mastery. I don't want to loose sight of the whys. That would be un-wise. It's so late, and I'm still thinking about how I can make my sets better. Why? The desire to better the self is what happens when you want to live up to something you love. Or someone you love. It's not pride, or ego building. The sharpest sword cuts down monstrosities along the way. The polished blade reflects the conviction most clearly. I don't know what I'm saying, or thinking. My intentions are good. It's too late. The mystery is a mess that keeps unfolding.

-antidote