If I asked you a question, would you answer me?
For example, if I asked you something like, say, if you could go back and say anything to anyone from your past, who would it be and what would you say?
If you could go back to a person from your old life or from what might seem like a previous life; who would you pick first and what would you tell them?

It is true that we are who we are and that we are products of our background and environment. It is true to say that much of our hang-ups are linked back to early memories and carry on as a remnant from our childhood.
I often discuss this because this is where my roots begin. This is also where I had to begin the process of unearthing my old truths so that I can unlearn and re-teach myself, as well as replant the new version of who I choose to become. 

In my case, I came to my stages of awareness at different moments in time. This was my journey, which might be relatable, or I might be more alone than I think. However, if we relate to the core of the story instead of the outcomes and instances, my belief is that everyone has their thoughts which are in need of reconstructive surgery.

I admit it. I am not a fan of bullies. Then again, who is?
I’m not a fan of anyone or anything that looks to punish or humiliate people just to keep them down or to keep them meek.
I see these people. I see them all the time.
I see them and their insecurities. Let’s face it, we all know this is true. No one bullies people because they are comfortable with themselves or because they’re well-adjusted. 

This entry does not belong to me so much as this belongs to the artists of the world and the musicians who have changed the way we see life. I can say this now as a disclaimer in order not to plagiarize any of someone else’s work. But more, I would like to offer this as a humble gesture to put aside all the common rumbles and nonsense dramas in our life.
This is not about me so much as it is about all of us. This is about the creators of music and the process we go through when listening to a great song that makes us think or feel.

There comes a time when you wake up enough to realize that everyone is human, including our parents and teachers. This also includes authority figures from our youth. This includes everyone who told us or taught us something in our lives. This also suggests that not every lesson we’ve learned was accurate or correct.
At the same time, we can go years without ever coming to the realization that not everything we’ve been taught is true.
We have to see this. We have to come to an awakening where we break the molds of our past so that we can be free from its mistakes. Hence, this is why I say to get out from behind yourself.

It is a quiet morning here in purgatory. . .
The streets are empty and the sun is beginning to do its trick. I am unclear whether the sky will be blue or somewhat gray because the clouds have not seemed to let go, at least not yet.
There have been so many changes that are both mounting and oncoming and there are so many times that we try to look away or turn a blind eye. Either way, the one thing we know is that denial does not stop devastation.
Not at all.

My first journal was written in an attempt to save my own life. This is important for me to express because the action it took to create that journal was important to the details of my life; in which case, this is what has brought me to this point.
This is what’s brought me to the here and now of things, so-to-speak, and had it not been for the chemistry and the chain reaction of certain efforts and events, none of this would be so.

Before we go one step further, I would like the record to reflect that I come from a time that existed before filters.
There were no cell phones or camera phones and the smartest phone we had at the time was a cordless phone. Yes, I did have a rotary phone in my house, which is funny when I think about it.
We eventually had answering machines, pay phones and beepers. Yes, beepers (or pagers) and if you paged a friend from an unknown number, you typed in the phone number from a push-button phone and added a special code so they’d know it was you.

I will say that there’s an art to the way we live. And to each their own, or at least I think this is what people say.
We all have our ways. We all have our own little quirks and personal fashion. I can say that yes, although we’re perfectly unique and individual; there’s a branch of commonality that links us closer together.
There’s the way we think which may be different for reasons that number higher than our minds can count. At the same time, I offer a moment of truth here. I offer the hope to link us together with a certain special understanding that we can all relate to.
I offer this with hopes that we can find a common ground because even if people go on their own separate ways, at least we can come to an understanding about the internal voice (which everybody has) and at least we can come to a conclusion that our thought machine is not always operating to its best potential.

The following is a bit of uncomfortable truths; however, in the efforts to answer the question, truth is exactly what this entry calls for. So, in the ideas of love or in the mention of what love is or if love is real; my answer is yes.
Of course love is real. But where does love begin?
Where does this come from and who teaches us what love is?

Come to think of it, back in the early days of my so-called romantic career, I remember an eighth grade science teacher who told me, “There’s a reason why they call them crushes.”
He told me, “They call them that because that’s what happens to you.”
“You get crushed!”