Being Honest With Fiction

There it was, a night in perfect shape, a long line that enters a club and a great list of chaos and waiting insanity.
This was life. Ad this was my life too, wild as ever, like it is when people are young.
Nothing else mattered at the time. Not my bills.
Not my rent, which was due, of course.
I never thought about investments or retirement funds.
Nothing else was important, except of course, the fact that my life depended upon the beating heart which needed to beat hard and fast.
Like lightning.

This is the way life goes when it comes to wild youth. This is what it means to be crazy,
I remember,
This is also the way it felt to be let into a place in New York City. These were the places where the music blared and bodies danced in the heat of beautiful persuasion. 
I cannot say that I dared enough to dance as much as I should have. However, I can say that I dared enough to experience the heat of flesh and enjoy the temptation of late night affairs.

There are some who never saw this.
And many never will.

I do not think I could relive nor redefine my younger life and nor should I have to or want to.
I can best describe myself as someone who lived with a burning desire.
And I still have them too
Burning desires.
They differ in shapes and sizes and names as well.
But the passion is still the same.
Safe to say my burning desires will never die.
And if this is true –
then neither you and I will ever die
At least, not as far as my desire are concerned.

I still have the need to dance.
Perhaps the genre and the music has changed.
Or perhaps the beat has slowed down to some degree.
Still –
I have the need to sing out loud and be so free that nothing else matters.
No concern for consequences.
No cares about what comes next.
No worries about the impending doom or the upcoming bills or whether work will have something waiting for me on my desk when I come in on Monday.

I remember the nights out and that I’d have to make it work the next day.
I remember the understanding and the realization that I would have to cut the night shot.
I remember making deals with myself.
I recall how I would agree to only go out for a little while.
I made deals with myself and in my head that I would be home earlier.
I agreed and swore I’d leave early and be home in time to get a few hours sleep.
But no
Nothing ever went that way.
Something always came up.
Or the night picked up speed.
Or maybe I met someone, like a girl.

So much for the deals I made with myself.
I would come home an hour or so before my alarm went off.
And somehow, I made it to work the next day.
Half asleep or half dead.
I still made it in though.

I cannot say that I miss that part as much as I miss the thrill and the adrenaline.
I don’t miss the struggle as much as I miss the hectic chaos, which fueled ideas of what it meant to be alive.

I don’t know if youth is there to teach us what it means to live or if age wakes us up to remind us that life is passing us by.
I don’t know if my version of happiness is the same as it was when I was in my mid to late 20’s.
At the same time, I have been reminded of things, which were great and overlooked.
I see daily reminders too, and these are the reminders of opportunities that I wasted or misused.
Such is life, or so they say.
And such is youth.

I never understood when people would tell me that youth is wasted on the young.
I always assumed this is something that old people say.
And I was not old.
I refused to grow old.
I swore that I would never be old.
But again, this is something that young men say.

However, I am not young.
I am looking to relive my youth and nor is this some kind of mid-life crisis.
At least, not for me.
No, I prefer to see this as a spiritual awakening and a greater moment of awareness.

I want my heart back.
I want my desire back.
I have learned enough to know that we have understand how to value things.
I have learned the worth of time.
Therefore, I choose not to waste another minute.
Hence, this is why I have come here to The Great and Almighty Mother of All.
I come here to offer my dreams and find comfort and seek guidance.
I am here to find peace in what was.

I have always said that youth comes with a plethora of tomorrows.
I still say that.
However, age can come with a plethora of regrets if we die too young or fail to lie.

How many times have you let your doubt get in the way
How many times have you watched the windows of opportunity close?
How many times have you taken simple things for granted?
How often have you felt the sting of what it means to say, you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone?

I don’t feel the need to relive youth or to be young again.
I don’t need to hit an unrealistic rewind button.
No, I want to feel the angst and the wildness and the fire, the fury, the passion and the absolute pleasure that comes when nothing else is more important than the moment at hand.

I was too young to realize that time runs out.
I swore there would always be another time or another day or another night to be wild and free.

I agree with the themes I’ve seen on social media feeds.
One night, all of my friends gathered like usual and none of us realized that there would never be another time where we would all be together again.

There were last kisses that I never knew would be the last and final kiss.
So whenever I am blessed to kiss again, I prefer to kiss longer now.
Much, much longer.

“Live life to the fullest.”
I have been told this throughout my life.
But who hasn’t?
I truly thought I was doing my best at this.
But I had no clue how far I fell short of this goal.

You can’t live in fear of the consequences or worry about what’s going to go wrong.
Sometimes . . .
You have to grab the moment and dance with it like this will be the last and sexiest dance of your life.

I know this now.
So, as soon another moment comes
I swear –

I will be ready.

Chemistry is everything.
And not everyone can inspire thoughts and feelings like this.
So, it makes sense to gather around those who produce a better inspiration.
I suppose this is why the gates of my memory are opening enough to remind me of what went by.
You
Me
The world . . .

Life is too short to waste.
Period. End of sentence.
But life is really too short to make the same mistakes twice
or three times
or more