The Letter

To you. For all the things I should have said. For all the things I can still say, but am writing this letter I will never send. Come on. You've been here. That voice, yes it's there, will probably never go away. Let's call her regret. It is absolutely impossible to live beyond regret. There are things we wish we did. Could have, would have, should have. And then some. Here it goes again. The key to hush her is to first acknowledge she exists. Women are quite irritating. New news. Embodying one as I do, doesn't make it any less so. I can't get it out. They're there. She doesn't sound like me. It's like a recording. That can't be me. Its always been on my fault list. Who truly knows what they want. And who ever they are, they're lying.

Hindsight has problems with communication. He is best when provoked. He knows what he wants, but just can't get it out. She doesn't know what she wants, but blurts a recording. Maybe this should be the letter in my head. The one I read before bed, the one on it's tenth draft, the one she won't record. Well, at lease I wrote the letter. It's the thought that counts. The lack of thought should get me somewhere. She may never leave me alone.

Happy Thoughts

For the most part, happy thoughts rotate my consciousness. You know, life is good....and all that jazz. Ironically, life is good. True, it is a daily effort to slow down to avoid flipping over those speed bumps, but rocks make the sand all that sweeter. Recently, someone who I hardly know invaded my inner thoughts. How? Well, perhaps I am not as aware of my thoughts as the happy people would like me to be. Isn't the point to make yourself believe the happy thoughts. Perception is reality. Not a single soul out there can make another feel something without the way they perceive the reality changing. In the end, we all do what we want. This has taken me almost 3 decades to wise up on. This topic is ever-evolving and constantly on my mind. Now, I am not saying that there aren't selfless, caring, genuine folks out there. There are. I have been blessed to get to know more and more of these rare breed lately. What I am saying is, these people actually want to be selfless. Imagine having the desire to do good without any accolade. Is it really human nature to expect something in return? Absolutely not. Some -ologist just rolled over in their grave. Why do we always have to toss out excuses, reasons, explanations? The world would be a better place if we all didn't feel obligated to state our agenda. Just live. Go with the flow. Embrace the change. Live without regret. Ya, ok. Regret creeps in, even as happy rattles it. We all have our reasons for why we act. The truth may never come out, but when the rocks smooth over the place we end up may just be a mirage of sun and sand. We did what we wanted. We landed where we thought would be the best to thin the reality line. Enter the importance of the happy thought.

Smile at your consciousness. This smile just might, just maybe, will rub off on your subconscious. There's no stopping your happy thoughts. Just ask Peter. Just call me, Tink.

Take Me Back

It's never too late. You only live once (YOLO). If I see that, hear that, one. more. time. I am all about using acronyms. They've helped me many of times. Acing the sciences would not have been possible without the invention of such alphabetic usage. However, my gratitude has come to a crossroad. Simply do not take a motto and shorten it for monetary purposes. I don't want to hear Lil whatever his name is chant this to a ripped off melody. Society has come a long way. The third graders who can't get YOLO out of their heads don't even know how to interpret the letters. The moral high road is clearly out of reach for much of the population. Are we shrinking? Rarely is a stance black or white. Shades of gray linger, just ask Anastasia. We rush around filling 24 hours with mundane, thoughtless nonsense to avoid actual thoughts. How else could YOLO be profitable? Take the time to think about it. Top dogs smurk at lunches away from the office, co-workers boost about 80 hour work weeks, graduate schools are over crowded. Hell, McDonalds even has a commercial about it. Genius. The early bird gets the worm. Yes, but the early bird went to bed when the sunset.

I won't go on and on nor shall I nag, this is not an invitation to a pity party. This is a rare black or white issue. The warning sign has been flashing for as long as I can remember. Neon, bright red, metallic, sunshiny blinding. Work life and home life will inevitably merge. Cloaked in nomadic tendency, this merger is fully acceptable. Well, to I. The one insistent on never loathing her job. Money can't buy happiness, nor is it everything. Vowing from the moment I crossed into reality, leaving the bubble too many have yet to pop at an age appropriate time, from purely a beaten societal creed, that I shall never loathe my job. Circle back. Life's just too damn short. Thus, work life and home life should merge. Further more, one should actually enjoy the punching of the time clock. Now, let's be realistic. Some days are just not all roses and honey. Shit happens, the water spills, everyone just can't get along. Completely following the happiness is a state of mind mantra, let shit it the fan and go on about your day. The problem is the lack of quite possibly knowledge of this mantra. Living selflessly may be too much to ask. The ability for Lil whatever is name is to exist may have given it away. Then again, it may just be me. Living in my very own tasty bubble. Maybe my time, that credited to home life, should be spent searching for Mr. Grey. If it truly is never too late, if everything does happen for a reason, if the belief that life is too short and to avoid hesitation at all times is a motto echoing through my subconscious, then I've found him. The battle is letting the merger unravel. The battle is giving up, giving in and forgetting why the bubble popped. Forgetting the new flavor of the one I perfected.