life.

"I want more life. I can't help myself. I do. I've lived through such terrible times and there are people who live through much worse. But you see them living anyway. When they're more spirit than body, more sores than skin, when they're burned and in agony, when flies lay eggs in the corners of the eyes of their children - they live. If I can find hope anywhere, that's it, that's the best I can do. It's so much not enough. It's so inadequate. But still bless me anyway. I want more life."- Prior Walter, as he dies of AIDS and an angel promises life in the heavens free of pain and suffering. Angels in America

thanksgiving.twenty14

Each year around the Thanksgiving holiday I attempt to sum up what the experiences of that year has left me most thankful for. Unlike the years prior, I have spent several days wandering the halls of my countless thoughts, unsure how to summarize my gratitude. But as I sat at the dinner table today with my partner and great friends, breaking bread and exchanging belly laughs, I realized that I had over-analyzed my thankful list entirely. I know, I know, big surprise there! Instead of pondering the many emotions that accompany life's natural and constant ebb & flow, I failed to recount the joy I have in my heart for simply waking up today with good health. I failed to recount the contentment I finally feel in my soul for having a warm, loving, beautiful guy to come home to each evening. And the wonderful friends near and far in my life, well that feeling of security they bring me is probably more than I deserve. Then there's the blood related family that loves me unconditionally and thinks I walk on water; they give me the peace in my soul that no amount of money or worldly goods could parallel. That mother of mine is a queen in my eyes. Being her son gives me the confidence I need to survive anything life's journey might hurl in my direction. She thinks I am silly for saying this but I know she was born to be a star. She outshines everyone when she walks in any room and she can melt the heart of the coldest being with her beauty and with the softness in her voice. But she is too humble for stardom. She needs no recognition and that's what makes her my lifelong idol. Finally, pride. If you're lucky enough in this lifetime you'll meet a friend or two that is more than just a friend. They don't even need to be someone you see often. They believe in you and would follow you thru the gates of hell and back to ensure your happiness and their confidence in you makes you levitate with pride. I call them cheerleaders! I am fortunate enough to have known a few, but one in particular deserves mentioning today. Kim Childress Rivenbark has proved her loyalty to me many times over and has had nothing to gain from doing so. She can be thousands of miles away and will sense my soul aching and knows just what I need to hear to give me the pride to peel myself off the ground and to stand against whatever oppresses me. Her confidence in me is inspiring as I wish more of us would strive to be cheerleaders. Again, I have a few other beautiful souls in mind, but they know who they are. Kim, thank you. Cheerleaders in my life, thank you. Jesse, thank you for loving me. Friends and family, no words will ever be able to express my love and gratitude for each of you. I am a product of my environment, and I am thankful for it. .

Beware of Destination Addiction - a preoccupation with the idea that happiness is in the next place, the next job, and with the next partner. Until you give up the idea that happiness is somewhere else, it will never be where you are.

fucks.

You’re born with a ton of fucks to give, so you spend them like a kid with a credit card. You give fucks about your friends, about your grades, about your fashion sense, about strangers’ opinions. You give way too many fucks about way too many things. You have so many. Then, as you get older, you have maybe 10 fucks per month, so you learn to budget them. You allocate fucks to family and career, but there aren’t enough fucks to give to the newest fads. Oh, someone at work has something they need my help with that’s outside my job title? I’ll do my best to allocate some fucks, but this month is pretty tight. Then, as you get even older, you’re down to 1-2 fucks per month, and those fucks are pretty damn precious. You give them to your family and your hobbies and your job, and that’s kinda it. It’s not your fault – fucks expire too quickly. I would’ve liked to save my fucks from when I was younger but I can’t. Then, you hit fuck insolvency. You’re getting like 1 fuck a year, and you have to make it last. So you go without, and even previously fuck-worthy things, you just can’t give a fuck. Some people run out really quickly, Some people have a fuck trust fund that pays out a decent amount even into old age. But at some point, the fuck faucet runs completely dry and you’re out of fucks to give. It’s just basic Fuckonomics.

regressive.mobility.

I want to go back to a time when I knew you. I wish I could have back the days that I would wake up next to you. I hurled insults when I was angry, like everyone does, but I want those words back. Turn back the clock and I promise to cherish every minute of our time together, wasting not even one second on my frustrations. I would have no frustrations. I would accept your distant mind just the way it is without question and consider it's shared presence a gift. I want to hug you again. I want you to nibble on my knuckle, blow your breath on it, then sniff it. You always made me giggle when you'd do such silly things as that. But, alas, the life I knew then barely resembles my life now. The faces I see each day have changed. The music I listen to, the foods I eat, the clothes I wear, even the car I drive; all have evolved. The only thing that remains the same is how much I love you. I have a new lover. He is devilishly handsome. He shares my spiritual beliefs and has many of the same talents as me. Sex with him is passionate and he makes me feel sexy. He truly loves me, and that's why I feel guilt for loving you still. He deserves all of me. I deserve to give him all of me. If you could turn back the hands of time I'd have quite a predicament, trying to decide whether I should allow my heart to evolve or regress. Fortunately, life doesn't afford us stagnant or regressive mobility. Our behaviors, however resistant, will only propel us toward our destiny. However, it's our choice whether we suffer by wasting time thinking of what 'could have been' or let go and float peacefully in the knowledge that the universe will place us at the same finish line we were always going land on anyway. It hurts to let you go but I must. You are forgiven as I too long to be forgiven. You are loved. We are free. Goodbye.

lights.camera.ella

Lacy, Toby, and Ella getting ready for the storm, we got a truck and heading for Mississippi and then Dallas. Time is running out and military everywheres and no one on the street. We weren't going to go? Ella was never coming back she said. She had already lost everything in Hurricane Katrina, including her mind. Jobs in New Orleans for the last three years have been a means to know where and slow. Miss Ella has to be going some where and slow is not her style. Lights, camera...Ella. And life in the ninth ward as Bywater Barbie in the mardi gras was aging her. Patron on ice please sir. Mike it a double. (written by Joshua Jones as he made plans to escape the hurricane in The Gulf and escape the life he knew too well.)

change.

The night groans in agony, victim to life's inevitable growing pains. Nearly all of those that once grounded me to happiness and stability have been scattered like the leaves of Autumn. Some only left my sight while others left the safety of these city walls, finding solace in lands far away. Then some have been snuffed out of this world completely, leaving survivors like myself to mourn in a quandary over what lies beyond the only life we've known. I will adjust. I always do. For what else can one do but accept that the only constant is change?