Writing in these notes is like a meta analysis of my life. It’s research and I’m the subject. At times the things I write about are not about me; there about other folks struggles or political/social wrong doings. But is it all me hiding behind obstacles on my way to the real me.
I pop out once in a while in every story, rant, or poem. A piece of me peeps over the wall and checks the responses then ducks back under cover. There’s a scared person in all of us I assume, that’s the paranoid person speaking. I don’t want other folks to see the person I haven’t found before I do. But I keep writing hoping to draw him further out because he’s tired of hiding.
The social injustices are mine. The co dependent friends are mine, the need for dysfunction is mine. I collect things like everyone else. I don’t envy anyone, I’m not a jealous person, I could care less what anyone else has, unless it’s normal. I keep writing in search of me and I don’t care who reads along with me and smiles or sneers. I don’t want what you have; I want me.
You’re welcome to travel this road with me and be my friend. You’re words of support are appreciated. The hugs and handshakes send warmth through my heart; but know that that person behind the rock is always peeking out from behind his cover watching you. He is there to remind me that I still have obstacles to me. You can’t see him, because he lives in the shadows. And he is proud that I don’t hide, just as I’m proud he sees things for what they are. He sees through you!
We all have a friend that will never let us down, will always tell you the truth. We ignore him also. He doesn’t care because he genuinely cares for you or me. I’m blessed to have a conscious and smart enough to acknowledge him most times. I have ignored him at times and ended up with people in places I didn’t really belong.
But now I look for him.
I don’t have to wave. We don’t shake hands or hug. He doesn’t say hi. We just look at each other and lock eyes in acknowledgement that we are inseparable. That we look out for each other and when one of us fails it doesn’t matter. The other is there to remind him that tomorrow can be a second, a minute, or an hour between us.
My friend wonders through my dreams nightly making sense of my day. He sees the day a little different then I do. He’s feels fear, love, or lust much more intense than I do. He wants me to feel, he wants me to understand, he want me to smile. So he leaves me a message every night to awaken and understand yesterday for a better tomorrow. But he can’t make me better, only make me whole.


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