The world meets no one halfway. Truth is the world meets no one either way. Anything you want to do; anything you want to be or achieve, and anything you want to build or create and anything you want to become will have to happen now because now is the time to do it.
You have to do it otherwise nothing will ever happen. And if nothing happens, you’ll find yourself somewhere far away from your dreams. You’ll wake up even farther than the life you’ve always wanted, wondering what happened, and wishing you’d stuck with it and taken a shot.
A Memory: A Morning On Avenue A
It was
morning and the sun was already hot near 23rd Street. The season was upon us in
the unofficial start of summer. I was out the night before with some of the
boys. It was Memorial Day weekend in New York City.
Most of the city was half-emptied with the wilder, younger crowds out someplace
else—like say, maybe down the shore in Jersey or out east on Long Island, in
the Hamptons, or out on Fire Island, or at Montauk Point.
A Letter on Memorial Day 5/27/2019
You are far
from us now and away at a place that we don’t understand on this side of the
world. I am not sure what the landscapes look like. I don’t know what the weather
has in store for you today or what your plans will be.
I wanted to reach out to you and touch base. I figured since you are where you
are, might as well write to you about the reasons why you went where you went.
My Good Friend Newton Said . . .
I go back to Newton’s third law, which states, “For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.”
I don’t claim to know much about Newton. I know a little about his three laws of movement. I know that, “An object at rest stays at rest and an object in motion stays in motion with the same speed and in the same direction unless acted upon by an unbalanced force.”
I know that life moves no matter what we think or want it to do. I know that people act and behave the way they do—and sometimes, I swear, I fully believe the reason why people behave the way they do is they’ve never felt the consequences for their behavior. Or with less polish; I truly believe that people act and speak the way they do because they’ve never been punched in the face.
Beauty: From Bedtime Stories for The Insomniac
I know there is beauty in this world. Sometimes beauty is hidden. Sometimes we might have to look for it and sometimes, I think the most beautiful things are hidden in plain sight but we tend to overlook them.
Continue readingThe Farm: I Gave It A Name
I had a dream about the farm last night. I had a dream that I was standing in a gazebo with white posts on a birch wood flooring, elevated, and slightly high enough so that I could overlook the grounds and see my surroundings.
I was overlooking the fields and the barn and the houses on the hill, which is where I stay and where the kids stay and more accurately, this is where anyone could stay, should they need a place to stay.
There is a kitchen big enough for all with a dining room that is serviced by us and fed by us from a meal that was created by us.
There is a place for you here. I’m sure of it.
This is a safe haven. This is a place where all can heal, we can be, we can overcome and learn to live, love, and laugh without fear, worry, guilt, or shame.
Poem: My Love Is My Love
Keep in mind, love does not come without anger.
Love does not come without troubled times.
Love hurts.
We go through trials. We argue.
We fight and we complain.
This Is Why I Do What I do
I go over my journals read through my past ideas. Sometimes I recall the tasks of the time. Sometimes I read and remember what I was thinking and feeling at the time. Like you or anyone else in this world, I am someone trying to find my place in the circle. I have goals. I have dreams and ideas. Not all things fall into place. Life changes and so will situations. Circumstances are not always within my control (and I get that) but I am, however, responsible for me.
Continue readingThe Thing About Temptation
We were waiting for someone to come so we could straighten out. Mike had an idea to find a place to hide, which was fine for me because I wanted to get away too.
It was raining; cold, late at night, and the residual grinding teeth from the cocaine high had become desperate as usual.
We were in our hometown, which meant we knew where to go but the paranoia was always too intense for me. I always had a fear of some jackass coming out from the shadows. I was afraid the cops would find me. I heard things. Every nerve in my body was frayed like the end of a frazzled rope and all I wanted to do was to be right again. I just wanted to soften the edges and placate the fears with some kind of offering to exchange me for them or them for me.
To Keep Things In Perspective
I had a chat with a friend whose sister survived the unthinkable. She talked about the power of words and what they mean. Somehow, my struggles are very small in comparison to others.
I have been trying to figure out what it means to be tough for as long as I can remember. Sometimes life happens and causes me to redefine my terms.
I found a prose I wrote for a young girl. Her name is Olivia. She was 13 when we met. She was diagnosed with stage 4 Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.
Everyone told Olivia how strong she was.
“You’re doing so well,” they told her.
“You’re so strong,” they said.
Pretty sure Olivia would have rather been less strong and healthier than sick and enduring. She went through chemo. She endured the treatments.
The Written Addiction 