I am awake again and at the same time at the same place in my bed. I am thinking about too many things and so, it is hard to ease my mind or rest my breath enough to sleep.
So much happens in the span of time.
Too much has gone on between the distance of you and I.

I would rather be somewhere or anywhere else, —preferably someplace warm, like say, far from the world we know and far from the old snow and the slushy pavement along the streets in Downtown, Manhattan.
It amazes me though.
I am amazed at the places I’ve seen and the person I’ve been throughout my life.

It amazes me still, to notice the range between highs and lows or when money was tight or my dollars seemed more like a plethora of chances, which I hoped would never run out.

I am at an impasse at the moment.
I have been here before too.
Only now, everything seems different.
I swear, this is like walking down same street for decades
and now, somehow, everything is strange to me
or maybe I have outgrown myself (again)

I suppose I could call this one of my first summers in hindsight. Then again, I am letting this go out to the atmosphere without any kind of decoration or imagery to hide behind.

Foreshadowing is real. Yet it takes hindsight to have us look back and recognize that life shows us things, like windows of opportunities and warning signs that offer guidance.
But I was blind to this.
I was blind in some ways.
However, I was a visionary in other ways and somehow, I was too afraid to let myself see the life I wanted most.
I was too afraid to try and find out that something about me was wrong or otherwise undeserving, and that as close as I came to having what I want, in the end, I would always be close, but never victorious.

What is it now, I ask.
If you think or look back, what do you see?
How does our life look now that all the lights have faded?
The bridges we burn cannot light our way anymore.
Some people say that this leads them to feel “stuck” and if you ask me, nothing is worse than being “stuck.”

The dust of our past has settled down after a late afternoon rain and the brutal heat of summertime was broken by a storm to crack the humidity.
Do you understand this?
Do you remember the summer?
What about the storms that made the sky turn dark and crazy when the humidity was too much?

It is no more out of the question for you or I to revisit where we used to be than it is for us to question what made us go our own separate ways.
And still, I look back.
I think back about the days before stress took place. I think about the feelings that come when we are young and free and nothing is so critical or so important that we have to divert our attention to anything that deviates us from our path of personal redemption.

And what does this mean?
What does it mean to be redeemed or to find redemption?
What does it mean to lose ourselves and find what was lost, enough so that we can both redefine what it means to live life or to be young again.

The funniest thing is that I swore I would never grow old. Then again, this is something that young people say.
Or so, I suppose.
I swore that I would never walk the line or conform or be like the people I knew who became part of some kind of system that seemed to be lifeless or draining.

I never wanted to be the kind of typical 9-5 person who raced to get out of the front door and make it to work on time. I never wanted to be “that guy” while dressed in the typical or usual business attire with a newspaper tucked under one arm, a Styrofoam cup with hot coffee in the other and a briefcase in tow.  

I have loved these days, though gone, years ago and folded away as if to be placed in little folded envelopes to keep in my inside pocket of my so-called vest and keep them as keepsakes.
This is my worth, right here.
And yes, this is all I have now.

I have these moments of life when the sun was high, the wind was warm, and the feel from the ocean at my feet was enough to leave me with the feelings of satisfaction.
But to add, I have more to this which is far deeper than what the surface mind would catch or understand.
And so, if you wouldn’t mind and if I can lay down my mask and shield and put my swords away, I would like to share my softer side.
Or more, I would like to show you what I fear most and never dare to show anyone.

And so,
I don’t suppose that you meet many people in your life who take part in such a way
And so,
I suppose it would be hard for anyone to subscribe to the idea that heroes are real and that Angels can, or will, or that they do exist and appear to us, here on Earth.

And so,
If you don’t know then my guess is you can’t know.
You wouldn’t know what it feels like to be rejected or unwanted and then, somehow, someone like the above comes to you with no agenda other than to let you know that yes,  you do matter. 

I miss my walks. . .

I used to take these walks for a reason
I love the way early morning looks and how the sun comes up. I love the emptiness of the quiet streets in my town, which was otherwise sleeping at daybreak.
I love the way my feet felt when they hit the pavement, as if every step had its own individual purpose and yes, each step walked with intention.
I slammed my foot down as if to be determined, and I was more determined with each step.
This was great!
I swear.

This one goes out to all of those “overthinkers” out there
And this goes out to those who sit with their personal plagues and overthink their way into quitting before they even begin –

Write on, Poet.
This is my best advice