And This? This Is More

You do know that things can always be worse, right?
Then again, I’m not sure that anyone wants to hear this. At least, not under bad circumstances.
Of course, things could be worse.
I know this. And you do too.

I know that despite the wrong turns and the pitfalls, somewhere, someone is hurting far worse than I am. I know that I have two arms and two legs, two eyes, a mouth and a nose. And while admittedly, yes, my age has crept up. I can still function.
My body does not function like it used to. But nothing does. No one functions like they did when they were younger.
Age is undefeated.
And I get that.

Despite my conditions and the changes, I must admit that while I do not have the same luxuries, I do have a roof over my head. I have clothes to wear. I have a position, which means I have a job and I can put food on my table.
My world has shrunk considerably, which shows that people are not always who they say they are.
Real friends are a true rarity and fair-weathered friends will always be proven when life shows itself in an unfavorable way.

Still, I know things can be worse.
I know that nothing is as bad as it seems.
I know that I have the right to adapt and improve, regardless of who is on my side or who opposes me.

Life moves.
The Earth turns.
We might not feel the motion, but we can see the days move quicker than we anticipated.
It is not beyond me to admit that I have wasted too much time. And I am not above nor beneath anyone else here on this thing called Project Earth.

It would only be through arrogance and ignorance that I believe I am above or better. I am not above or better.
The same laws that apply to you or anyone else apply to me as well.

There is a game which I know well. I know this game all too well because I have played this game often enough. And I apologize in advance for the profanity, but the name of the game is called, “Fuck Around and Find Out!”
I admit it.
I have fucked around.
And yes. I have found out.
Absolutely.

We are always the sum of our choices and decisions.
Some people play the game longer and without injury. Some find out right away.
Some learn quicker than others.
And me?
Well, I learn. I forget.
I go back to the beginning.
Or like it was when I was a kid, “Tag!” and I’m it.

I know that the world is truly a cyclical place.
I know that life is like the waves that rise and fall on the beach.
I know that we can’t all ride the wave forever because eventually, the waves tumble and the ride has to end.

I am shaking my head and laughing as I write this to you.
I am thinking about the bliss of ignorance and the youthful assumption that there will always be another place or another time.
I assumed there would always be tomorrow.
I never assumed that tomorrows would run short or run out and as for planning my future, I swore that this is only something that old people do.
The future is what old people think about.
Not to mention the fact that I lived too deeply in my past to remember the future ahead of me; and therefore, I found myself in a cycle of outcomes.

And as for love . . .
As for the hope and dreams that love is real . . .
As for the curious fascination that perhaps I might be someone special and that there is a girl in this world, (namely you) who would own me, quite literally. . .
As for the beautiful nature of being totally vulnerable. . .
As for being the perfect compliment to someone, same as our breaths inhale or exhale to accommodate each other. . .
As for my worries . . .
As for my desires.
As for my fetishes and tastes or my kinks and pleasures . . .
As for my secrets and as for my purpose and my reasoning for being here, where I am . . .
I am unsure if I am on the right path or not.
I do not know what today will bring or if tomorrow, I might find my way and land on the threshold of a brand-new existence.

It has been said to me and not avoided that I am a product of my environment.
I have been told that my traumas have made me into who I am. Or adversely, I can say that perhaps my traumas have prevented me from being who I want to be.

I think there is truth to this.
I think it is fair to say that our mind clings to old humiliations and hence, we find ourselves on-guard at all times and oftentimes, perhaps we act primitively.
We all have our own biases.
I have mine.
You have yours.
And the same as you have a history, I have my own.
Obviously . . .

No one will ever know the truth within my heart. Then again, I can say that I have contributed to my own demise and yes, I have contributed to my downfalls as a reaction to a dissatisfied thought, idea, feeling, or emotion.

I suppose this is what depression does.
Yet, I want to be transparent here.
I want to be open and disclose my truths.
I want to be clear that yes, I have a deep understanding of what it means to be personally violated. I understand what it means to have boundaries cross and of course, there is no unfolding the page or removing the creases in time.

I am not where I wanted to be because of my relationship with past events. I am not with whom I want to be with or where I want to be at this point in my life.
But life is changing.
I am changing.
I want to change more.
And I want this to change quicky too because time is far too precious and I am far too old to think that the future is something that old people worry about.

I am closer to the end than I am the beginning.
I am far from young and most of all, my body cannot and will not do or respond the way it used to.

So much has changed.
Except, not everything has changed.
My core is still true.
I am not blinded by ignorance as much as I am aware now that time is moving, and time is precious, and running short

Therefore, I need to make myself known.
I need to share myself and show my truths,
I need to open myself to the fates; and should I be allowed to try again, or should I be given the opportunity to love deeply, then I will love you heartily and totally, fully, and I will equally pay attention to each and every section of your body—one kiss at a time.

I was thinking about the show RENT, which has different meanings to me. First, I used to walk by the playhouse where RENT was featured in New York City.
The writer or the play died just before opening night.
He never had the chance to see what he created. At least, not in the flesh.

There is a song in this musical,
The song is I’ll cover you.
And the love interests are not typical.
Angel and Tom—

But who they are is far less important to me than the beauty of how they came together and rescued one another.

I weep wholeheartedly as I offer this out there to you, Dear Universe

“Just pay me back
with one thousand kisses.
Be my lover
And I’ll cover you. . .”

Nothing in the world is more beautiful or pure than the sentiment and the emotion I feel behind this.
Maybe one day, I can repay those thousand kisses, and in my return, I’ll cover you

Be well, my love.
Please.
And just know, I will stand and rather be alone than be with someone, just to be with someone.

No one replaces you.
Ever