Who do you think I am anyway...

The catalyst of confusion
started a fire
while shopping for
a soul on a high wire.

Until now I was unaware that the remuneration for impropriety exceeded that set for dignity. How much did you get for yours? As for my dignity…I will hold onto it, thank you. I would rather starve than feed my soul from a base wage.

With my voice in repose, I hid behind my own forbearing shadow, and allowed silence to foster absolution. Silence failed, and I have become intolerant of flippant commentary.

I am not so completely unaware. Because I am certain that is common knowledge, your recent presentment was, quite frankly, out of line. Your bravado flames me.

As it happened, I had simply misplaced the why, where, and how. I can identify the sickness in that statement, and I concede fault in my volition. I understand that I can be fucking difficult. My own scathing behavior must remain in constant check.

I am not able to take back that fleeting moment or the injustice it served you. I have arrived at the place from where I must move on. I wish you the same in your departure.






p.s. a fucking doormat.

The smoking gun.

Reflection.

I battle with my image. It is difficult to see myself in the context of life. To see myself as others do, with a watchful eye. I am often too busy living to be constantly aware...aware of my actions and my thoughts as they occur, to be always on. That is a poor excuse, and so I will continue learning.

There amongst the rubble, the rubbish, the reality, and the reverie…is a life lived. I have opened it up for my inspection, my dissection. My life spilled open before me, I am able to pick it apart. What is worth keeping and what shall be cast aside? Some of it will be misplaced or forgotten without intent. Some will be thrown full force out the fucking window.

The entirety of it, my life, has been examined, admired, and accepted as a lesson in time…without regret. But still I ask myself, how can I be a better person?



Considering the past, I must live forward.



I will continue to challenge myself to sustain thoughtfulness. I will attempt to close each day with a question…was I good?

I will allow the answer to that question to lead me forward. Daily, I will take the hand of my mistakes and my misgivings and allow them to guide me to craft a life. My triumphs and successes enhanced by greater insight. I do not want to come to the close of another year bombarded with resolution.

I will also try to keep fear at bay. I will pause, even if it is just for a moment, to reflect. I intend to live, and live well. Each day I will do my best to be good.

My lovelies, I wish each of you the best of life in the new year. I hope that you are all happy and healthy, and that you find joy in each day. I hope you live, and live well.



Apparition?...please.








p.s. my clichéd resolve will be found in the calm exhale of purity.

I am reluctant to begin.

The necessary words seem to escape me when I need them most.

As I sit here in this quiet place, I find it difficult to express the entirety of my emotions. I fear that no matter what I write, you will not fully comprehend the impact your thoughtfulness has had on my heart. Could it be that the words escape me? Or is it that the act itself is indescribable? Nevertheless, please accept my humble attempt at expressing gratitude.

You overwhelm me, yet again. Your generosity has renewed my spirit. A gift I will treasure indefinitely.

A kind gesture made its way to my heart. A collection of thoughts, images, photographs, sculptures, paintings, drawings, stories, dirty stories, videos, memories, inspirations, songs, dances, a trip around the world, a mansion, a hand, recipes, poems, puzzles, riddles, and rhymes...they are all amazing. I will spend time admiring each gift, removing them from their boxes, and finding just the right place to keep them.

Soon my gratitude will transcend the buzz, and eventually, I believe you will each hear me. You always do.

Thank you. Thank you all, from the bottom of my heart.

p.s. are we in Texas, again?

It mattered most when I least expected it...

I heard you whisper last week
your lips were pressed against my ear.
And even though the words have passed
the message is still clear.

It really meant something.
The calm one, the one with the reason…his tongue is raw with truth, and my ears bleed faith. My deft eyes claim certainty. It was well hidden between the curtain and the guillotine.

My devoted hands work tirelessly to articulate a minstrel's vow. The commission of such an act gives me a unique sense of purpose, and helps stave off the return of my old internal debate.

I am afraid to stop, my mind fraught with hindsight. Unsure if it will hold, I test the bindings.

Secure.



p.s. some speak in tides, others ride the waves in silence.

From the corner.

Always, they gather around the table.
Their hands clasp coffee cups
of different colors, shapes, and sizes.
Scattered before them plates hold sweets.
They arrive, each with beautiful minds
bounding exuberance, and cautious measure.
Another day and the scene may be festive,
music, cocktails, streamers, and balloons.
And another, somber
with their wondrous hearts saving the day.

Always, they are lovely to behold
and they graciously offer
the culmination of extraordinary lives.
They saunter in and take their usual place,
then spirit out again to live, work, love, and play.
Always offering their host a taste
of what that experience could be.
I walk among them undisturbed,
sharing the endeavor
with their glorious insight discerning the way.



Please keep that in mind for the times I when say I have heard enough and please carry on regardless of my shitty ass bad timing.



I am all but present and accounted for, and simply enraptured with the season…I am fucking giddy with this shit.


p.s. “tally-ho!”

Bury the hatchet.

I am fueled by provocation, currently deliberating my constitution.

The witness having brought to light new evidence, the accused pleads guilty on all charges pending. The defendant has been bound over for sentencing.

p.s. judge and jury, impartial. injunction exempt.

Ghost-imposed gag order.

You want this straight?

Then you have to be willing to hear me out, and that means all of it. You can not pick and choose the verse; the ugly shit has got to ring in your head too. The things that I say that cling to your clothes like mildew, the stench entrenched, leaving you filthy.

What is the matter? You can’t wash it off? Well, neither can I.

I repeat myself so much these days that the truth is often lost in the mix. Say it, say it again, and again. You try it and see how well rehearsed you can be. Sometimes I change my mind, and you use it against me. You will tuck it away, and bring it out for a later date, only to make me eat shit and lie.

And you will use it against me.
Tuck it away for a later date,
only to make me eat shit...

Setting aside my own, to honor yours.

p.s. it can hit the fan tomorrow.

Space

Let me get the door for you.



p.s. my hand is there, reach for it.

A little rough around the edges…

I have not yet entered into a static free zone. Buzz, buzz, buzz…my head is ready to fucking split. I asked him if it still mattered at all.

I am waiting for his reply.

I have been half way around my brain with this shit, and it just keeps coming up the same. And I am repeating myself, here in the dark, not quite alone.

In time.

p.s. patience please, my lovelies...I am listening.