They teach a lot of things in school.
Don’t they?

They teach us how to read and write and how to add, subtract and multiply. They teach us about history and about who was the first to sign the Declaration of Independence which is, of course, John Hancock of Massachusetts.
We learned about the colors of the rainbow and the names of the planets. We learned about the Earth as it is and as it was. We learned things like geometry or algebra and calculus, which at the time – I’m sure I’m not the only one who wondered “Is any of this necessary,” and questions if any of this would be something I needed in my future life.

I was up last night (again)
I had the chance to listen to the rain
hit the rooftop and splash against the skylights
like a team of soldiers, hoofing their way
down from a parachute raid.

Nighttime and yet, there’s so much on the mind
Am I good?
Can I be good?

I can say that I have had friends of all kinds.
Good ones, bad ones
real ones and fake ones. I have friends of opportunity,
friends out of necessity, out of convenience,
true ones, false ones, old ones and new ones.

I have made friends in places where I’d have never expected
and there are friends of mine
who I found through a process called life.

Dear You,

I have been coming here for a long time now. It’s been years since my return and since then, I have grown and my directions have changed. Then again, my intentions have changed as well which means I have changed and so have you. So has the rest of the world and since this is true, then it’s also true that we all evolve somehow. 

There it is. The sun coming up from a different side
and ah, the West Coast.
She remembers me like a new friend
reacquainted by a connection through a dream.

There are hopes here. Stories too, of all kinds
like mine for example,
or the idea that the beaches here
were something that I never thought I’d see;
yet – I’ve seen them

Just for the record –
that is, if anyone keeps records anymore
or watches the games we play
or keeps a score . . .
most people don’t see what you see, nor can they.

And you start to wonder if anybody gets it
Do they know?
Do they understand?
You try to explain yourself but still,
you wonder if anything you say makes sense.
Maybe it does. Maybe there are people who get it on some level
and maybe people like us; we’re kindred
maybe

Note:
Before going on with this, it is necessary for me to explain that the following is a combination of truths and since this is a combination of truths, then it would be safe to call this a scene of real or honest fiction.
The following is a combination of life-changing stories that opened my eyes to events that took place after a decision to enter a war on the emotional virus in our cities. Or better yet, the following is a detail of experiences from a sickness, which has taken casualty upon casualty, in all walks of life, regardless of background, finances, race, religion, location or orientation.

I take a look around and I say yes.
I say yes because there is nothing else I can do –
or maybe the only thing I can do is breathe.
So yes. I breathe.

I was young and working in a new world with new people who came from different backgrounds and even different parts of the world.
A morning came when I was no longer fit for my life in a suit, which I changed by trading in my tie and briefcase for a blue collar life with a different level of understanding.
In which case, I learned and understood without any shadow of a doubt that life is life and work is work. I came to the realization that everyone has a boss and that no one comes to work for the food and friends, at least not for the most part.