Stream of Consciousness

And the world, I swear, this is such a random, crazy place. The way we are, the way things happen, the way we separate from each other and fall back into place somehow—I tell you it’s all crazy.
I swear it is.
We spin around here on Project Earth and find ourselves, in full circle to be exactly where we’re supposed to be.
Some call this cosmic, some call this fate, and some say this is all just consequence.
Know what I say?
I say this world is a random, crazy place.

Out of nowhere, an old memory came to mind of me in my bedroom, teenage years (of course,) traumatized and dramatic with self-induced tragedies flooding the times.
As I was thinking about my days of way back and the times at hand, a song came on—or should I say a random song came out of nowhere to place back to where I was.
The song was not one I listened to back then. My genre was different. This was just a song that was popular at the time. The song was called Buffalo Stance by a girl called Neneh Cherry.

As soon as I heard the music, I remembered everything so clearly. I could see the way my bedroom looked, my hardwood floors, where my television sat on my dresser, where my stereo was, my posters, and where I kept my little unknown secrets.
I felt the emotion. I felt the stir of my young man’s angst. I saw it all. And felt it all too. However, it’s not the memory that was so interesting to me—no, it was the timing, so random, so weird, and so seemingly intentional—as if somewhere, someone knew what I was thinking or feeling.
Or, maybe this is nothing. Maybe this is just consequence. Maybe this is me trying to make sense of nonsense.
But we’re all like that, aren’t we?
We try to make sense out of nonsense and hope to find some hidden reason or some cosmic draw as to why we find ourselves where we do in random places at random times, and somehow, meaningfully, a doorway opens to a new existence as if to say, “Welcome to fate, kid. We’ve been waiting for you.”

Maybe there is no reason why we meet. Maybe there’s nothing more to this galaxy than space and stars, but God Damnit, I swear, sometimes, I feel like there is an energy that follows me.
In fact, I let me call this me.
I say this is my spirit.
I say this is my internal voice.
This is my need, hoping believe in the substance of fate and aching to believe in my dreams, which at one point, I once kept them locked away in fear my dreams might fly away without me—or worse, fly away period, untouched or unlived.

I like these little crazy coincidences. Good or bad, I feel they make me alive, like the way I feel when walking down the city street after my podcast, nurturing the idea that me and my dreams are on the verge of coming true.

I want a radio show.
A recovery hour and we can talk about anything and everything. . .
There, I said it. I put it out there.
Did you hear me, Universe?
I want to do something with this voice I have.
I want to shape these ideas and create something meaningful.

I never thought this would be me.
Then again, I’m not sure if we ever knew this would be where we are. You being you and me being me and the randomness of how life places us like figures on a game board—I tell you this world is random, crazy place.

You never know what’s going to happen next.
So nurture now, I say, and put it all out there

Somehow, it all comes back in return
at least I hope so . . .

Ante up, kid
put it out there and see what comes back

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