Living is for lovers. Simply accounting for the number of starry nights, sandy beaches, fields of flowers to romantic songs, or smiles is enough to quantify the existence of loving all around. If your heart is similar to mine then you might understand this rant about tenseness flipped into stunning circumstance. Where you’ve let yourself vulnerably explode as wide as the cosmos of creation agape at the chance with another being intertwined with your own to be called one of those lucky pairs in love. Because we do it over and again, we keep trying, I find that many people mistake such inertia through these modes as ferocity. In actuality, it’s the aches that support me moving. To be armed and wondrous is throwing oneself utterly onto the lap of life without humiliation. It’s when we’re so equipped to take whatever comes our way that we turn it into an affectionate sweetheart, even if it walked away.
A man must dream a long time in order to act with grandeur, and dreaming is nursed in darkness. ~Jean Genet
Much of our time we spend competing with the nasties of a defeatist mentality. I think what’s at play is the opportunity for a pinch of positivity competitiveness. The ones with the most dirt are often awarded some prestigious clout. Frequently, the bigger our mess the loftier an outcome. The harder I’ve fallen has matched the intensity of my dreams. I believe our darkest days can give us super sheen. Every day of this age fifty I’m more on board with this meaning of life belief that it’s honestly about time spent with those we love who matter to us and nothing else at all. So, why the F*CK we all aren’t simply allowed to do that 24/7 still escapes my hippie gypsy love-focused heartcore that’s beating a bit too sorely! If I had a hundred dollar bill for each time I’ve begged and pleaded with the universe to explain this, or more importantly help us all out this way, I’d be giving a fast run for Jeff Bezos’ billions.
Lately, I’ve spent a lot of personal time therapeutically dealing plus listening with others related to losses. Every passing of a person ringing rubbish runoff for multi-tiered reasons inside my brain. Whether the invincibly talented nineteen years young daughter of two doting friends or a best girlfriend of one of my best girlfriends also suddenly torn from her family’s arms, none of my male casualties is a dent quite as deep. Although, I’ll admit it’s complicated whatever way you’re receiving a slice of missing to mosey out of melancholy when discovering a fleeting moment we wanted to make an eternity. Yet, I’m the kind who’ll console you providing you plodded the trenches of my dawdling drama and then gifted me wings. I don’t ever want to be known as the one short-circuiting others’ happiness. To counter any associated hardships, I aspire to remain farming affairs of the heart.
I’m boundlessly concocting options to revert the absurdity of permanent darkness into rockin’ resplendence. One of the toughest weapons to wield is any innocence of our youth. Leading ourselves from an age of sophisticated simplicity releases all of the carefree reliability we merit. Maybe you model my lace slips to Ska skips of my heartbeat. My grime comes through as hot sauce. However, never filthy by any wrong means. I’ll wear pumps for a prime bump ’n grind eve, but prefer the pumps of my solar plexus hiking out on a sharp keel of a sailboat in high winds during a flirtatious ocean-spraying day of sunbeams blazing an uncharted trail following a horizon line or some school of dolphins. I recommend the scenic route. I’ll let crowd surfing maintain a high spot on my bucket list. I boisterously eschew small talk. If you request my breath you’re in for an electrifyingly poignant ride.
Identify your fellow humans who guide you to be your superlative self. Bringing forth the joy in others is durable exultation. I’m not bothered by the glances I get when conversing with pets by the same pet-names that I habitually refer to people: sexy pants, honey, my sweet, or lover. Be that friend, lover, family member, or inspiring do-gooder whose particles are so bright that you’re causing light to filter into every pore they never knew could be infused. I’ll offer near anyone to anything worthy a space to be part of my story. I save smooches for a selection of intel my hard drive to sex-drive sourced it couldn’t exist without. I’d really rather skydive barefoot and surf nude, except for the weight of my boobs. I’ll continue to sort a place for candles, canoodling, plants, and partaking of choice rom-coms. I look at hugs as the appendages of our love. I make friends easily due to the fact that they’re my best investments. Plainly put, people are our riches.
May you help produce troops of perpetual optimism.