Endship?

     Into every relationship - be it romantic or best friends - there will be a series of moments over time where a given decision effects the entire vantage point of the friendship. There is a specific moment we all feel a gravity in a given moment; a thoughtfulness is required that normal life does not. It's hard not to be afraid of these moments, when we sense that a connection might be irreparably repaired if we don't "do the right thing". There are many right things you can do. And thus, stress arises.

     For the second time in two years (fifteen total), my best friend and I got into an immensely passionate debate that tested us both mentally and emotionally. Our initial foray was last year, when election tensions were scorching the airways and the streets. It also became a part of our interactions and the consequences were menacing. At one pint, we didn't talk for three days after an abrupt end to a chaotic phonecall. I didn't know if I was ever going to talk to my best friend after so many treasured moments of bad movies, boobs and being. We came back together, but it felt like our friendship, for the first time ever, had a "Do not enter sign". Our friendship survived, but I always felt a subtle loss in the ability to be open.

     Tonight, this conversation began anew. It was largely challenging, but at one certain moment my friend told me we should stop the discussion. The moment to had arisen. If I accepted the shutdown of the conversation, I know it would have created a searing scar the second time around. Right or wrong, I pressed forward to find some common ground in our divergent opinions. If best friends can't find agreement, what hope does the nation have? Three hours later, we had found common ground, revealed even more about ourselves by being intellectually honest and had praised our lives, our memories, and our friendship. We sacrificed sleep for a great discussion and the renewed confidence that all is well. He could have shut me down, but he came back in to the discussion to find a common ground. I think he recognized The gravitas of the moment. I am blessed to have this person to call friend.

Ah. So?

     As I sit here, watching sports with a hazy head; it occurs to me that I'm the Everyman. And I'm okay with that; is that bad? Must I strive to be he best at anything? Can't I just be a good husband and a great friend - but an average worker and thinker? Why must I quantify myself at all? Alongside the discovery of my maturity as well, am I again becoming? If so, come wit my Dollface!! It might be close to Rome!

What?

How did it happen?

How did it pass me by?

Looking at my dream

Written in a language 

That is familiar,

Yet foreign somehow.

From where I stand

I can find one conclusion:

I became mature 

When I was not looking.

Laundry

I haven't been this down in a while

Saddened by another's angst

Dwelling on the loneliness of omission 

Eluded by sleep while stoically musing...

As I've never been this comfortable

Happy in the fact that I am okay

With you being upset at me for a night

At once not needing you to forgive me

Because I am finally at peace in knowing

I have no worry you might ever go,

Leaving me in a state of dismay.

I'm sad that you're not happy with me

But I'm happy that you've proven to me

That you are STILL the best choice I ever made.

But Who's Counting?

You are a treasure my love.
A million whispered words
Lost to the clock's aging chords;
A thousand sideways glances
Expressing intimate intent;
A hundred harried moments
Where a smile spawns clarity;
A dozen firsts sprinkled
Across the power of perception;
And that one singular second
When I looked at you and found me.

My Darling,

As I sit here in a moment of (non-)clarity

I recognize I don't need symbolism

To accompany us upon our journey

Into the distant purple forever

Lying upon a hazy mountain

Cold and foggy and fascinating.

As I look upon the bamboo

That is dying now due to age

The one I brought for you

In my humble attempt

At associating us with durability.

A first attempt at "I love you.

Rifling through the memory box

I am flooded with one wave and again

Of timeless smiles hoisted upon

Emotional connect to foreign ideals.

Mary a one feels like an end

Just a buffet of simple beginnings.

I appreciate the passing of the moments

Alongside you experiencing the world

For it is creating a tapestry of thrills

That can only find creation with a 

Lifetime of forgotten re-memories.

Thank you for the select seconds

Where you stopped being aware

That there was anyone else

On the planet at that place and time.

Pergolas and metallicas and romantica-s.

Thank you for being you 

When you are with me.

The New Slavery

      When you look at the mass chaos we see every night on the news, it seems like I have heard and seen of things like this before. An elite littered with business owners holding down their workers. Men with money taking women at their whim based on money and power. The angry majority lashing at toward one another in an attempt to climb the social strata. The government is in place, the landowners have changed, but as the populace continues to destroy itself, we feed into the ultimate misery that we all feel.