And it dawns on me sometimes.
You know?

This is called an awakening, I suppose. Or maybe this is a moment of clarity and a time of awareness that wakes me up to the truth.
I can call this a moment of realization whereas, times are tough, and the threats are many, but the spine cannot bend anymore, and the will is too tired of being weary or submissive.

There are times when the consequences are no longer intimidating enough to cause us to sit quietly.
And next, our will and intent outweigh the gravity around us.

There must be something. There has to be.
Or should I say that we all need something. Everyone needs something to relieve stress or to break the tension so that we can breathe.
And yes, I say breathe, which is automatic and part of body’s responsibility.
But when I say breathe, I mean breathe as in a sigh of relief.

We all need something to right the inaccurate wrongs in our head.
At least, I do which is why I always come here to sit with you.

I see you. I see you as clear as the reflection I see in the mirror.
I also see you as clearly as I see the inaccuracies which reflect in the mirror.
If that makes any sense, which I think it does.
Or at least, I believe this makes sense to people like us.

And you can hide all you want to. You can run.
Or you can try. You can sneak away and avert your eyes and act as if this doesn’t exist,
but the idea of faking it until you make it doesn’t always make sense.
You can look away if you want to. Or you can act as if I am not here or in the room.
But I am.

The sunrise was beautiful this morning. My routine changed for today, which caused me to have to leave at a different time.
But the ride was worth it.
I saw the sun come up while driving alongside The East River. I can tell you without a doubt that I have seen all sides of my city. I have seen the good parts and the bad, and somehow, despite all the craziness and the stories, I know this world is a good place.

But first, I think it is important for us to touch on something.
Okay?

I wonder what it would take to be young again. 
Or if at all, I wonder if this is possible?

I wonder if this is even possible. I wonder what it would feel like to regain that sort of resilience that only comes when you’re young enough to believe in a million tomorrows.  
I wonder.

I used to call them, “the velvet ropes,” and regard people like this as the lucky ones. I regarded people like this as the fortunate and the pretty people who seemed to get by on their looks.
I resented them as well. Or more,
I suppose I wished i was more like them.
Desired. Regarded.
Alive and well in the fashions of New York City.

I suppose the background for the “velvet ropes” title came to me when I was a younger man.
I saw them all, the pretty and the so-called elite.

It is early on a Sunday.
The clouds decided to show themselves this morning. Then again, the weatherman tells us about a storm that’s supposed to come. I heard the news say the storm is on its way from the northeast.
And that means this could be a bad one.
But I don’t mind.

Great things happen in the rain.
Days like this can be great to create memories.
I know.

We all come to this world in the same way. We are all shipped in similar packages and equipped with mild to moderate differences.
I agree that no one is the same. I agree that we are all unique in our own way.

At the same time, we all live and breathe. Some of us are more fortunate. And some people will live with challenges that no person should have to face. Some have obvious talents that go beyond compare and others have skills that are less seen or less known.

It has been said to me that nice guys finish last. I often wonder if this is because nice guys realize that they don’t need to win the race.