I know a girl who’s involved with a situation I am intimately acquainted with. Actually I know two girls involved with oddly similar situations, but since only one of them reads my blog, this is for you and for everyone else, but it is also for me. Continue reading
This is a surprisingly difficult question for me. When I opened up my word processor and started typing I thought I had the answer. By the time I started typing my own words, I was lost. There are several stipulations I’d have to make in order to answer. First, certain individuals would have to be willing to relocate to one of the two places, or within commuting distance. Secondly, whether money was an object or not would determine the second location.
First, I would take up residence in Ibiza from mid-March to mid-September. I love the life of the island, both the club scene and the natural scene. The party culture and the hippie culture are both amazing. I could see myself growing old over there with some downbeat house. I can’t imagine being too old to appreciate DJ Sammy. I can picture the waters of the Mediterranean. It is the only beach I’ve been too where the water called to me. Ibiza is where I wish to spend eternity.
If money was no object, I’d Gatsby it. My Daisy isn’t in NY, but I’d live there among the wealthy, throwing parties and letting the stories grow. Maybe my Daisy would cross the bay or the country to see me. Maybe. Regardless, that is not why I’d live there or in that lifestyle. I would live there because it is close enough to NYC and close enough to some of my best friends. NYC offers some magical things to see, but I’d never want to live there. I don’t know that I ever did. I like loud music at home. The idea of neighbors on each wall and the floor and ceiling annoys me. I also like having a front yard and back yard. Dinner parties that turn into late night parties are always fun.
If money was an object, I would be here. Sitting on this bed with integrated computer and 4.1 surround sound with a little subwoofer bolted to the bottom. I’m not sure that I love anything about Orlando, but I love Orlando. Perhaps it is simply because this is where my heart and mind and life began to heal. Perhaps it is the amazing feeling of meeting amazing people. I can name 4 people I have met in the last 5 years, that I never want to lose touch with. Two of them I can call for help with anything at anytime. It blows my mind. Regardless, I have a simple life down here and am living on college loans and scraping by, but life is good. I can’t remember feeling this much a part of my own life before. All the hardships and problems of the day to day aside, I am happy. And I get to play my eclectic music very loudly all the time.
So I guess I’m a pretty boring person, since I wouldn’t change much short of winning the lottery, but really, I’m okay with that. Life is good!
The worst possible thing that could happen to me today is the same thing as yesterday. It is the same thing as tomorrow. It is the same thing for you and you and you. The worst possible thing that could happen to you is that you could find out what the worst possible thing that could happen to you is. This is not some simple dismissal of the question, but a very long considered thought. Reality is far more creative than my imagination. I have a pretty healthy imagination. Continue reading
This is outside the normal for my blog, but I had something to say. This is commentary on American education. Continue reading
I say you’re perfect.
Not just to you, but to everyone.
You often think that I am crazy,
That I truly ought to be committed.
You often think that I am lonely,
That I say this to anyone.
You sometimes think that I’m exaggerating,
That I just don’t know you well enough.
You sometimes think that I’m flattering,
That I just want you that badly.
You rarely think that I may see something,
That the world has failed to see in you.
You rarely think that you are perfect,
That the costume you’ve worn so long is real.
You never think that I speak my heart
With the full support and conviction of my mind.
I am not deaf or dumb or blind.
I see your cracks and your flaws.
I see your weakness and your fear.
I hear your need and your worry.
Yet, imperfections they are not.
You worry about hiding them,
And in the hiding you show your strength,
And without them your strength would fade.
But dear, dear girl, know this and know this well:
You haven’t hidden them from me,
And you are still perfect to me,
And I will let you think you hid them.
I see you as you are.
I see what you want to be.
I see where you come from.
I see where you’re going.
I see perfection…
In all its forms…
In all your forms…
You are my sunshine.
Sometimes… my only sunshine.
Whenever you are near, I feel warm.
I feel like the layers of ice I’ve grown around my heart are melting.
I feel that being close to you leaves me in just some old swimming trunks.
Our conversations leave me naked, my soul unashamed. Continue reading