Good morning.

I exhale my sleepy thoughts and wake early.
As usual.
I have been told that if I want something, then I have to put it out there.
Out there.

I’ve been out there for too long and yet, I was told that if I want something, then I have to claim it.
I have to own it, whatever it may be.
It is morning, quiet as ever.

The sky is about to change from dark to light. The colors of dawn are beginning to make their appearance at the horizon.
Beautiful shades of soft pastel colors wear around the horizon in my view.
I am elsewhere for now or at least, for today.
I can see the world from a different perspective here.
I am on the beach in Delaware, a state that I never knew much about and yet, like anywhere, beauty lives here too.

What does it mean, if anything, to be someone??
“To be someone”
I re-enter this with quotations because no one is ever “nobody” and anyone can be anybody, depending upon the dream, of course.

Safe to say that I will never find myself as a starting guard in an NBA game.
Safe to say that I will never sell out Madison Square Garden with my singing voice.
Safe to say that my Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu career will never lead me to a fight contract with the professional league.
But this does not mean I can never be who I’ve always dreamed to be.

I saw a famous speaker on video. He was approached by a young woman who told him she was going to be somebody . . .
one day.

What does this mean
to be somebody . . .

The rain is going to split the day in two
or so I am told.
I am told the weatherman says
the day will be partly cloudy to which this means
the day will be sunny at times.

I am told about the clouds having a silver lining
or that despite the rough times
or bad whether”
there will always be a caveat
which is a limitation
which shows that even if the world is about to end
nothing can end to completion
more than once.
And so, therefore
nothing can destroy me again
unless I allow it to.

I suppose I can say that I am in a holding pattern.
I am waiting and facing a temporary moment in time. But then again, I understand that all of this and all of what we see, and all of what we think and what we feel is temporary.
Well, maybe not everything . . .

I am done though
I am doe with hate.
I am done with the thoughts that degrade me. I am doe with the past and done with the fights and the arguments that bring me back to moments of emotional despair.
I am done with the heat-seeking missiles of emotional warfare and done with my thoughts of revenge.
None of this does any good for me.

It is a trip to say the least and to say the least, it is a trip to turn around and realize that yes, age took place, time has passed, and years have gone by in a flash.
Wow . . .
I will be 54 next month.
This is life and again, I repeat the C’est la vie, this is life or such is life and such is age, and time, and such are the realizations which take place when we are old enough to look back.

Here I am, sitting in a waiting room to have my blood drawn.
I do not like doctors . . .
I am too young to be this old.
Or so I think.
But I am too old to think that I will be young forever.

When there is no room left for excuses and when there is nowhere left to turn, the next few steps may seem painful or perhaps risky. But rest assured, when there’s nothing left, then there’s nothing left, which means the next steps we take are far more worthy than anything else in our life.
Therefore, now is the time to pick up the pieces and see what we can do, “to make a go of it.”

I ask the question, why?
Why do we fight? Why do we argue?
Why do we waste our time on insignificant things when we know that time is short, the moment is all we have, and if this is so. Then why do we spend our precious time and bicker back and forth with the ones we love?

And more than anything, I have to say that “it just can’t stop.”
Nothing stops.
“It just doesn’t work like that.”

The dreams, I mean.
Nothing stops when it comes to matters of the heart and as for the mind?
Well?

Something is amiss . . .
Or maybe something is off or off-center and me, I am somewhere in the middle.
Do you understand?

I am stuck and looking around at the world that somehow consumes me.
There is too much to see and so much to consider and at the same time; I am reminded when I was told, “keep it simple, stupid!”
Overthinking can be amazing.
or at least, I think so.

1)

And how would it be? A new world?
A new life?
A new time, made for a new form of living and a new way which is mad or madder than the madman who lives to die or dies to live.
What is this?

What is desire if nothing else than a spot or a place in my heart to which I swear to live and remain unfearful to die, or if at all or if anything else, who am I now or who will I be now?
Who will I become now that the older versions of me have been dismissed?

The time was sunset during an early August moment just before the sky changed.
All was quiet.

I was sitting in a small beach chair in a field of green grass and looking around at a small park known to me as Eisenhower.
And this place too.
This place dates back to the longstanding memories of this thing I call my youth and the birthplace of too many memories that caused me to worry and fear the backhand of the status quo.