BCF • COLOR YOUR WORLD By Davide, Editor in Chief

TIGHTEN YOUR DRUM
AND GET TO MARCHING!
By Davide, Editor in Chief

Who has stolen your drum? Where has that syncopated rhythm that you once called your life gone? Where is the passion, the fire? It’s hard to believe that we are already in the third month of a whole new year. How are those resolutions coming? Are they already on the shelf, or have they fallen off like so many new gym bunnies on a fast-moving treadmill at the local gym?

This month’s issue might just be the shot in the arm that you need. March for me has always been a time of reflection, recollection and a push toward another glorious year on Earth. This is mostly because within the first week of the month I celebrate my birthday. This year my birthday falls right on Academy Award Night. Imagine that! Truly I feel like I’m a star. GOD has yet again, blessed me with another year to get it right.

Here I am seated at a local Starbucks and oddly enough the music playing in the background is, “When the Saints Go Marching In”, now this I know has to be divine intervention. Marching is one of those activities that have to be uniform. Everyone has to be on the same rhythm, the same beat, and the same cadence. If even one person is out of step, you notice it instantly. Anyone who knows me knows very well that I love my friends and family. I love them so much so that even on my birthday I like to be the one giving the gifts. Sometimes it’s just an encouraging word or an open ear to remind them of who they really are. They are truly my gifts and a universal truth about gifting is; the more you give the more you will receive. So the more they enrich my life by loving me is the more I am compelled to love them back. We march to the beat of the same drum.

A thought came to me late one night when I started my usual birthday reflection on love and loved ones. I do that often this time of year. It occurred to me that not everyone is as fortunate as I am to be loved. And sometimes what we think is love really isn’t love at all. Sometimes people come into our lives and we think we love them but more often than not, it’s the idea of love that we are more in love with than the person. Sometimes that person can even become our drug of choice, intoxicating us to the point where we really don’t know the difference. We end up putting down our drum and picking up theirs or rather just getting in sync with their rhythm and the beat they play for us. In so doing, we get completely thrown off course and off tempo.

I know I’m talking to someone out there so I’ll just keep going.

Even the most venomous of snakes have been known to be tamed by the beat of a drum. The get lost in the rhythm, intoxicated by the vibrations, mesmerized by the beat. In essence, they become the property of the drummer. In ancient times of battle sometimes the smallest troops carried the biggest drums and made the most noise so that they would sound much larger than they were. In essence they too tricked the opposing party allowing them to believe they were something that they were not. Their drums were like a drug.

It’s time to really take a look at who’s ordering your steps! Have you fallen prey to inebriation from someone else’s drum? If you are, it’s time to dig through your “closet of life”, do some reflection and find your own drum! Get it tighten, tuned and begin a beat that resonates within the core of your spirit and creates a rhythm that only YOU can dance to! Use its beat to shake the cobwebs from your head and march forward!

If that doesn’t work consider the following…

YOU WERE MY DRUG (M)

At first you had me needing a fix
Getting high off of you and all of your tricks

A tweak, a buzz, a trip divine
my nose wide open cause you were my line

Slipped under my tongue a tab maybe two
Eyes just like crystals I was so hooked on you

I rolled you in a joint that I smoked
I took a deep puff and then I choked

Trippin through poppies you planted for me
My eyes were wide open but I still couldn't see.

My hash, my uppers, my X and my Meth,
my Rock of Gibraltar where I fell to my death

Here I lay dying you're still stuck in my arm
I remember you told me you'd do me no harm

So thru the pain, the sweats, the withdrawal
I'm protecting myself and building a wall

I'm down from the high but still touching the sky
Finding true love without questioning why

I don’t need a fix I don’t need a dealer
Resisting temptation to be with a stealer

I'm building a fortress from a huge self-love slab
I'm closing the lab and doing rehab

I’m finding my drum and beating it loud
I’m marching straight forward from under the shroud.

~Davide~




	TIGHTEN YOUR DRUM AND GET TO MARCHING! By Davide, Editor in Chief Who has stolen your drum? Where has that syncopated rhythm that you once called your life gone? Where is the passion, the fire? It’s hard to believe that we are already in the third month of a whole new year. How are those resolutions coming? Are they already on the shelf, or have they fallen off like so many new gym bunnies on a fast-moving treadmill at the local gym? This month’s issue might just be the shot in the arm that you need. March for me has always been a time of reflection, recollection and a push toward another glorious year on Earth. This is mostly because within the first week of the month I celebrate my birthday. This year my birthday falls right on Academy Award Night. Imagine that! Truly I feel like I’m a star. GOD has yet again, blessed me with another year to get it right. Here I am seated at a local Starbucks and oddly enough the music playing in the background is, “When the Saints Go Marching In”, now this I know has to be divine intervention. Marching is one of those activities that have to be uniform. Everyone has to be on the same rhythm, the same beat, and the same cadence. If even one person is out of step, you notice it instantly. Anyone who knows me knows very well that I love my friends and family. I love them so much so that even on my birthday I like to be the one giving the gifts. Sometimes it’s just an encouraging word or an open ear to remind them of who they really are. They are truly my gifts and a universal truth about gifting is; the more you give the more you will receive. So the more they enrich my life by loving me is the more I am compelled to love them back. We march to the beat of the same drum. A thought came to me late one night when I started my usual birthday reflection on love and loved ones. I do that often this time of year. It occurred to me that not everyone is as fortunate as I am to be loved. And sometimes what we think is love really isn’t love at all. Sometimes people come into our lives and we think we love them but more often than not, it’s the idea of love that we are more in love with than the person. Sometimes that person can even become our drug of choice, intoxicating us to the point where we really don’t know the difference. We end up putting down our drum and picking up theirs or rather just getting in sync with their rhythm and the beat they play for us. In so doing, we get completely thrown off course and off tempo. I know I’m talking to someone out there so I’ll just keep going. Even the most venomous of snakes have been known to be tamed by the beat of a drum. The get lost in the rhythm, intoxicated by the vibrations, mesmerized by the beat. In essence, they become the property of the drummer. In ancient times of battle sometimes the smallest troops carried the biggest drums and made the most noise so that they would sound much larger than they were. In essence they too tricked the opposing party allowing them to believe they were something that they were not. Their drums were like a drug. It’s time to really take a look at who’s ordering your steps! Have you fallen prey to inebriation from someone else’s drum? If you are, it’s time to dig through your “closet of life”, do some reflection and find your own drum! Get it tighten, tuned and begin a beat that resonates within the core of your spirit and creates a rhythm that only YOU can dance to! Use its beat to shake the cobwebs from your head and march forward! If that doesn’t work consider the following… YOU WERE MY DRUG (M) At first you had me needing a fix Getting high off of you and all of your tricks A tweak, a buzz, a trip divine my nose wide open cause you were my line Slipped under my tongue a tab maybe two Eyes just like crystals I was so hooked on you I rolled you in a joint that I smoked I took a deep puff and then I choked Trippin through poppies you planted for me My eyes were wide open but I still couldn't see. My hash, my uppers, my X and my Meth, my Rock of Gibraltar where I fell to my death Here I lay dying you're still stuck in my arm I remember you told me you'd do me no harm So thru the pain, the sweats, the withdrawal I'm protecting myself and building a wall I'm down from the high but still touching the sky Finding true love without questioning why I don’t need a fix I don’t need a dealer Resisting temptation to be with a stealer I'm building a fortress from a huge self-love slab I'm closing the lab and doing rehab I’m finding my drum and beating it loud I’m marching straight forward from under the shroud. ~Davide~
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