Good Or Bad, I Was One Of The Ones

I have always had this thing for sunrise.
Always . . .
I suppose I’ve had this since, —I don’t know, I guess for as long as I can remember.

Maybe this is because sleep and I never seem to connect very well.
Maybe insomnia and I were too close and the ability to sleep was too distant.
But the sunrise and I have always had this “thing” together.
I know it.

I used to watch the sun coming up from the roof of my Long Island home. I was a kid then. I had different phases of my youth but the roof and I, well, I suppose we can say that we shared a few secrets. We shared a few drinks and a few smokes and I spilt a drop of blood, or two.

I was young. Of course, I was.
But I had an old soul too. I was lost and yet, I was totally aware of where I was.
I knew where I had been. I knew the details of what happened. Yet none of these things seemed to hurt me during the sunrise.
Breathe in . . .
breathe out . .
I notice the way sunrise appears differently in winter than it looks in the spring.
The dawn is different in the summertime and as for the autumn months, I appreciate the sunrise here because this is the pause between the inhale and exhale of the seasons.
The heat subsides and the coolness has yet to overtake the land.
I like it

I used to work an early shift that began before sunrise.
I was older then. And I am older now.
I am far from young and further from youth.
But I still have something left. I swear, I do.

I have more in me now than before.
I have more to say, and more to do.
I have more dreams now than I ever did when I was a kid.

I have more drive but less energy. Perhaps this is because my body does not heal the way it used to. Then again, I don’t think anything is like it used to be.
Such are the tests of time, I suppose.
Nothing will ever be the same.
Not fashion.
Not music.
Not the way we used to dance.
Nothing will ever be the same again,
And I have to be okay with this.
What choices do I have?

I’d like to bring back some of my older and favorite fashions.
I miss my old pair of black boots with the wooden heel.
I miss my old outfits.
I can’t say that I was always comfortable.
But I can say there were times when I thought that I looked okay.

I miss the feelings I had when walking down Avenue A
I miss the nights on St Marks.
I miss a place called Stingy Lulu’s.
I miss the resiliency and the endurance
I miss the old playhouse I used to pass
and I miss the excitement I used to have when I’d wonder:
“Do you think she read what I wrote?”
And then I’d think to myself, “I hope she did.”

I remember when I began working at a building in Midtown.
I stood on the roof, high above Lexington Avenue.
I’d often grab some coffee and stand on the roof.
My scene was facing the East River and looking at the view of the U.N. Building.
The Citicorp building was to my north.
The Chrysler building stood ahead of me.
Of course, the ghost of The Twin Towers was to my south.

I stood in my working man’s clothes and contemplated the “if only” questions which I admit, although the questions have changed since my youth, the contemplations remains the same.

“What if?”
or
“If I had only done what I wanted to.”

These questions change over the years.
But the base of them is the same.
I’m sure.
My core is the same too.

I’d look at the sky and sip my coffee.
I’d watch the sunrise and ponder the evidence.

I’d consider the variables and choices that I made.
I’d think about the opportunities that I missed.
And yes, like you or any other person on Project Earth, I think about the times or the people, places and things and the decisions that caused me to turn right when I really wanted to go left. 

Ever do this to yourself?
Ever curse your turns because you know that you traded against your best interests.
And, so, you wish you could go back and rechoose.
But there is no way to rechose or rewind, so instead –
you grin and bear it.

I suppose this is normal.
I suppose we all have the “What if” questions.
Then again, I suppose we would never advance or try new things if we knew the outcomes would be bad.
We would never try or dare if we knew about the pain that was ahead.
“Would you have still tried to love her if you knew that all you’d get was a taste?”
Just a taste is good
But I’d rather have the whole meal.
You know?

I doubt I would have married once, let alone twice.
But then I laugh because who am I kidding . . .
I know I would marry again.

but if I had known about the pain, then I doubt I would have dared to try to marry.
Had I known the outcomes in advance, I doubt that anything would have ever advanced.
But what if my fortune can be fooled?
What if the fortune tellers were wrong?
What if there is a way?
What if love and happiness was less-evasive and truth was an easier pill to swallow?

I made my mistakes.
Then again, I cannot say that I was never warned or that no one ever asked, “Are you sure?”
No one has a crystal ball. No one can see the future
No one. . .
And to be honest, I doubt I would have seen the trouble I’ve seen if I knew what would happen.
Or maybe this is all bullshit.
Maybe I’m a piece on a big gameboard and someone rolled the dice and chose poorly.

Then again, I say this and I shake my head.
Free will is a bitch. Even if it’s not so free and in the end, we see that free will is the most costly thing known to man.
It’s not like no one is ever warned that hey, life can be a pretty dangerous place sometimes.
You better be careful

I love the sunrise
I love the way the sun pushes up from the horizon.
I see this like a golden seen, glowing in the soft palm of The Great Mother, Mother Earth,

I look at the sky and I think
I think about the things I’d rather do or the person I’d rather be.
I think about the way the Earth breathes or how the seasons come and go.
I think about man’s ability to rise above himself and surpass his own nightmares to become his own hero.

I have never dared to be so brave as to be myself.
I never dared to be be wholesome to the truths, which are as follows:
I have never been tough or strong and nor am I brave or true.
But I want to be.
I think about the way I branded myself, or the way I maneuvered through life and negotiated an unwanted path.

I think about my early morning walks on the beach and how my footprints sink into the sands of the Earth, as if to cushion my steps and say, “It’s okay, son. I know who you are.”

I think about a quote from Karen Lamb which goes, “A year from now, you may wish you had started today.”
I think about the times we slide backwards, or we go back to the beginning and think to ourselves, “What they hell did I miss?”
I think about the times when we balk or we pause and how the windows of opportunities close.

I think about the places I have seen and the things I have done.
I think about the different episodes in my life and the different versions of craziness or social distortion.

I am a madman.
I know this.
I am filled with desires and thoughts.
I have wishes and dreams.
Then again, we all have these things.
Therefore, I am not so different and nor am I anything close to the same.
I am me.
You are you.
It is what it is
and it was what it was.

I remember when I was old enough to call myself a younger man.
I remember the late nights and the drives home at sunrise.
I remember driving to the beach at Point Lookout after the hours of meaningless rebellions or acting like I was “Someone” in the crowd.
I remember a morning in the Hamptons.
I remember a loveless episode between myself and a strange girl.
And I remember her leg began shaking.
This was after we had spent some time together.
She looked at me with this detached look in her eyes.
Then she apologized.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Sometimes, it just does that.”
I never saw a leg shake like that before.
And I hope I never see something like that again.

Crazy people used to love me.
I swear . . . this always happened.
Wherever I’d go.
Crazy people would always find me.

I used to listen to people talk about how they drank too much and woke up in bed next to someone who was less-than desirable.
I once told someone, “That never happened to me.”
I remember the person laughed at me and said, “That’s because they woke up first!”
Man, that was a good burn.

I wonder why we do what we do.
I wonder why we play the games we play.
I wonder why we don’t say what we mean or mean what we say.
And more than anything, I wonder why we waste our time with the wrong people when deep down, we know who the right one is.
And yes, there is only one.

So, here I am . . .

Why do we settle?
Why do we let ourselves drown in the undertow of life?
What does it take to stand and defy the powers that be and what has to be done to change the tides and make ourselves well?

I saw the sun come up this morning.
I saw this while facing East on a Westbound train.
I saw the golden glow of a brand new seed push up from the palm of The Great Mother, which is Mother Earth’s hand

I know I might not be where I want to be.
But maybe today might change something.
Maybe today will put me one step closer
or one step further away.
I won’t know until this happens.

But at least I know that I am heading towards an answer.
good or bad
like it or not
the truth will come to light

One day