back when reading, imagining, and music were the only distractions...the only escapes.
I used to daydream about the future...you know, flying cars, teleportation, houses in space...
I mean, my head wasn't always in the clouds, I also thought about important things...like "the american dream" or the "normal life..."
Sprucing up the car and collecting chicks...
Getting through college or joining the army.
People can get so divided.
I watched as color entitled and shattered humanity...
protest after protest...
death after death...
inches gained and inches lost...
I watch now as color, gender, beliefs, and sexuality entitles and subtly shuns in paragraphs of political correctness...
but I digress.
Back in my day, things were simpler. Love was easier to understand.
You have the man
you have the woman
and then you have forever.
Love was like your 1,2, 3's or the A, B, C's. Husbands coming home to a cooked meal, smiling children, and an attractive wife vacuuming in her high heels. Separate beds but smiling faces!
Then I grew up.
I looked at my parent's and the life they shared and my stomach turned.
I thought to myself, "This can't be it."
Wallpapered walls, cheap linoleum...it all seems like a manicured stencil that just doesn't fit...
at least not for me.
Enter into the late sixties. I guess I'm not alone...these feelings of revolt are mirrored in every young face I see. Funky prints and long hair; hugs and daisy chains; floaters-drifters-wanderers...this fits nice. I hitch-hiked quite a bit. Never very far, just from here to there…I loved hearing the stories of my hosts…their beliefs, opinions, jokes, advice, and occasionally, enjoyed their short-lived love.
I tell ya, there’s just something about being in the moment and letting that moment happen. Let it happen sometime, do yourself a favor.
Anyway, I guess you could consider me a wanderer of sorts. A boat with no sail.
Just going with the ebb and flow, the moon, the moment.
(chuckle) It’s kind of strange to be saying all this…I talk of all this freedom but I don’t feel very free. I don’t have sails but I have an anchor and I feel stuck. I can feel the currents pulling this way and that but I’ve grown a little weary and my hands stay clenched in my pockets. I thought I was…I felt I was…but I closed my eyes for one second and when I opened them I was here wondering what happened, how I got here. The American dream, the normal life, the nine to five with weekends off?
It’s never what I wanted but it’s what I have (shakes head)
Fear is a funny thing.
I know it may not mean anything to ya now, but try to keep your eyes open. Even when you want to close them tight and succumb. Be strong and stay true. Leave things undefined and accept it, embrace each moment and savor every kiss.
I feel like I know you…(chuckle) well, at least you have a good taste of me.
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