I agree when you tell me the world is a mixed back of tricks.
Of course, it is.
Look around.
Do you see?
There was a man selling tickets to the resurrection on Vesey Street and Church the other day. I told him I had to work that day, but maybe I’ll catch my salvation on the flip side.
Who knows?
I agree there are beautiful things, all around us. Like, say the way sunrise looks when I am driving downtown on the FDR and then heading west on Fulton.
I have reasons for my connection to both the East River and The Hudson, of course.
Both sides of Manhattan have seen me through different periods of my life.
Good Or Bad, I Was One Of The Ones
I have always had this thing for sunrise.
Always . . .
I suppose I’ve had this since, —I don’t know, I guess for as long as I can remember.
Maybe this is because sleep and I never seem to connect very well.
Maybe insomnia and I were too close and the ability to sleep was too distant.
But the sunrise and I have always had this “thing” together.
I know it.
Good or Bad, I Was One of The Ones
The sense of smell has got to be one of the most interesting senses of all. For example, the smell of honeysuckles reminds me of a time when I was in grade school. Or the smell from low tide at the beach reminds me of a fishing trip I took out to a place called Shinnecock canal. I caught my first winter flounder there and this is one of my best memories of all.
You never forget the smells from places. I know this to be true, and while above smells that I mentioned are good, there are smells from places in my memory, which are ungodly to say the least and cruel to say it best.
You’ll never forget the smell –
Continue readingGood Or Bad, I Was One of The Ones
The strangest part is I am not sure I would recognize him.
That is, if I ever saw him again.
At the same time, we pass each other every day.
We see each other all the time.
All day.
I can’t say that I know what he was thinking, even though I know exactly what he was thinking.
I know exactly who he is because “he” is me and I am “him.”
I was a young man once and playing the dangerous game of cat and mouse and chicken too. My stance was imperfect at best and yet, I tied my best too pull off a look that made me seem bigger than I was.
Good or Bad, I Was One of The Ones
What does it mean to be wild anyway?
Is it wild to say that there was a time when I was fine to defy the world against me?
Was it wild of me to feel the music in some late-night place in the middle of New York City.
Or was it wild to feel rage or have an angst that left me on fire?
I think it is good to be wild. I think this is something the soul needs; to go wild or absolutely crazy or to stay up late or be out in the world without care and to toss your usual cares to an abandoned feeling, as if nothing else matters but the moment at hand.
Continue readingAnd This? This Is More
And this is life. Or so I am told.
I have not seen any other proof to show that this is anything other than life.
Or, maybe this is just me. Maybe this is my life and therefore, I am nothing more than small glimpse of something far bigger and brighter than my perspective.
I cannot see the stars in the daylight hours.
But I know they are up there.
I know where the moon is and I know where the sun is too.
I know where they are, even when they are not present in the sky.
I got that . . .
And This? This Is More
And all at once, everything changed.
My eyes opened to the truth.
And yes, it was that simple.
Just like that.
All that was before was gone away and all at once, I saw myself differently.
I was free.
And now, here I am.
I saw this as if something magical happened. and yes, I call this magic.
I call her magical too.
But that is besides the point.
And This? This Is More
And there was nothing like it . . .
And there will never be anything like this again.
Of course, I should add more to this preface. I should obviously state the facts and give background so that you know where I’m coming from.
And this? This is where I came from.
This is what it means to have a room or a place, like, say, the bedroom I had back when I was young.
This was my spot and my corner in the world.
This was my safe haven, even when life was unsafe. This was the only place I could go and be safe enough, even when my actions were set on defying gravity or the safety of living a normal life.
And This? This Is More
Breathe . . .
inhale through your nose and breath out through your mouth.
Are you ready?
Good.
Then let’s go
I know how it feels and for the record, I know about the stress that comes along, not to mention the basic fears or the concerns that come or make us question if any of this is worth it or even necessary.
Continue readingAnd This? This Is More
And sure.
Safe to say that when you didn’t know, you just didn’t know.
And that’s fine.
No, really. It’s fine to learn.
It’s fine to fall down once in a while or to land on your ass or on your face. I say this is good for the soul to know that above anything else, we are all human.
We all fail. We fall down.
No one wakes up with fresh breath.
No one walks around at their best all the time
We live and we learn and if we are lucky, we learn the secrets to important things, such as the secret to our own resilience. Or we find the secret to our endurance. And we need this so that no matter what happens, we find whatever it is we need to keep going, even if it seems impossible to take another step.
You can’t quit.
Quitting is not an option.
Right?
The Written Addiction 