I don’t know how this goes. I don’t know how people connect or why out of the billions of people in this world, our life seems to overlap with certain people.
Like us, for example.
Think about the odds. Think about the math or the probability of meeting someone so special or out of this world. Somehow, out of more than 7 billion people on this planet, I am somehow fortunate to have met, or sat with someone like you, and shared a meal or a piece of time on this great place called Earth.

The world truly is a magical and cosmic place. The odds of meeting the people we have met are infinitely ongoing and elsewise, no matter what has happened, or if our paths align, separate, intersect, or run concurrently; I swear, the odds of this or the probability of us is beyond infinite.
Yet, we fail to realize the relevance or the importance of life. We fail to see the way we intertwine as people.

I still say that you have to let your hair down. You have to loosen your shoes every one in a while.
You have to let go. Understand?
I say that everyone needs to go crazy sometimes. I say that this is a right that no one can afford to forfeit.
Believe me.
You have to let yourself experience the rage and the rush and the absolute adrenaline that comes with the freedom that comes without concern or worry about the consequences.
Just live.
Just let yourself go.
Just for the moment.

I have these dreams which are always the same. I am in a small rowboat with The Old Man.
We are fishing in a lake.
I don’t know where we are. I can only assume that it is early in the morning.
The Old Man is quiet. And so am I.
Nothing is said.

I am not sure if I am a young boy in this dream. I do not know if I am grown, like I am now.
Either way –
I view him the same way as I always have.

I don’t know when it was that everything changed. Then again, like a child grows, or like anything else in this world, something small can grow pretty big.
And then one day, you look back.
You realize the world moved right beneath your feet. Or maybe you wake up to the idea that the world turned, and you failed to make a move. Hence, this leads us to the word, “regret.”

You look around and see . . .
The kids from our past have all grown older. Some of them have kids themselves, and some are doing well, some are less fortunate. I swear, it’s amazing to me.
The sudden awareness amazes me.
I am also amazed how the face of a clock stays the same, and time moves, but life is not the same anymore.
Nothing is.

I remember talking to a group of young people. This was something that happened after a classroom presentation. I was asked if it is painful to be me?
My answer is simple.
Is it painful to be anybody?

Am I so different?
Are you or is anyone else?

Everyone has their own crosses to bear. Everyone has their own version of what’s real to them or what isn’t.
Life is life.
We go, and we live, and we move around.

I tried to fit in for way too long. I tried to stand right or lean right. I tried my best to look the way I thought I was supposed to look.
If I were to be able to redo or go back and start over, I would look to make my own way.
It’s crazy to think that I have been at this for a while.
My commitment, that is. If I opened my eyes and woke up this morning and found myself at a day from way back when, I know exactly what I would say.

Find your own style. Like what you like, love what you love. Make no excuses for this.
Enjoy your life. Enjoy your fetishes.
Enjoy yourself because there’s only one reflection you see in the mirror at the end of the day.
And that’s you (or me, in this case)
With all my heart, do not be apologetic for being different.

I often go back to the famous quote by Anne Frank, which is something that I had heard about when I was younger. However, I was too caught up in the angst of my youth and my resentments to realize that I might not forget what happened, and I might not forget who or what hurt me; but the ideas of forgiveness can be as freeing as the liberation of hate.

The quote is far bigger than these few words, however, Anne Frank wrote, “In spite of everything, I still believe that people are good at heart.”
She goes on to call the world a wilderness and talks about how the thunder is approaching — and despite what was around her, she says how somehow, she still believes “that all will be right, the suffering will end, and peace and tranquility will return.”

Maybe this would be better or easier to understand if I took an existential approach.
Do you think?
Maybe I should focus on the relatable existence instead of the irrationalities that play out in our heads.
But still, I think there are challenges and questions ahead.
So, I will begin this thought with one big, yet simple question.
What does it mean to be alive?

I have built this place in my head because if there is nowhere else, at least I can be myself here. At least I can speak my mind or speak freely. I can be honest without the fears or worries of feedback that would either hurt me, put me down, or break my heart.
This is why I have built this place and this is why I come here to find you.

There is a tattoo that runs down from the upper part of my back. This is posted like a billboard and written as a reminder. The tattoo is written in traditional Chinese characters, which translates to trust yourself first. Do not trust other people.