I have written a few blog posts since my last upload, but they remain in the drafts. They say people generally fall into a plateau and it can be hard to get out of it. I think my plateau comes when I begin overthinking, it is a virus. I will be back and luckily it is not as if I do not have other areas of my life that have both found its way back to an exponential growth, and are not at its plateau yet. To try and get me to post this one, I figured I’d share a semi sub-conscious, semi-conscious stream of thought that occurs daily.

First, a late friend Pat Lennon, he never really left my mind when he was with us and he surely has not left my mind since his passing. He drove a Jeep Wrangler, and all of a sudden all of Bay Ridge began driving one too. The initial thought is that it is him, which began running my mind ever since he unknowingly stopped for me when he had the right of way afront The Salty Dog one afternoon, amongst the many double parked cars. Then I think, or hope, his family maintained his car and it is his younger brother driving. I have yet to see a smile like his, but I have seen young men with short brown hair, a dark wash pair of jeans, white air forces, and a Carona in their hand, and it is if my body senses them before my eyes do. Ever since the day I met him he brought a beautiful sense of butterflies to my stomach. They have not gone away. His prayer card sits in the back of my phone case, sometimes aside in my driver seats door pocket. How tragic. How informing of the horror that are drugs. How beautiful of a man. I have been down to Red Hook to take photos a few times since this past September, and I think of his students, and his experience in Red Hook. I wonder what he listened to on his drive over there. I can go on, but this is a good accumulation of thoughts about a lost soul we lost earlier this year, who truly finds it way to me everyday. Next is a lad named Gabe Rissman. I am not sure what it was about him, for my last direct contact with him was in the 8th grade, but my old mirror in my room, holds him in it. Sometimes I actually deliberately use the mirror in the bathroom for a more disconnected, action driven use, rather than sit at the edge of my bed with my feet dangling off, staring at myself in this mirror. It is as if the second I see myself, I see him, only in this mirror. I find there is more abstraction to the imagery about this young boy, as if the world is held in my thoughts of him, only to be displayed visually, with an almighty palette. I wonder of his thoughts, and his round bright face, his swooping dirty blond hair, a slight pigeon toe, and his energy towards tennis. I wonder of the harm that came his way, and how he found himself stuck. I often drive down Henry St. and take a right on Kane to get on the highway, always slowing down on Warren and Henry with a pit in my stomach. Cobble Hill actually has a good palette for this said painting, dark, secluded and marvelous. I think this is why the show, Big Little Lies stood out to me, it definitely reminds of me Cobble Hill and Brooklyn Heights, in regards to its pallette and underlying truth. I cannot go from Gabe to nothing, Martha Atwater always follows. You could say this was a major learning experience for the age I was… we were, but not only that, it is indescribable how revolting this lose was for the universe. I understand this reality actually helps the universe go round, but this theoligy means nothing to the humans here who were affected. I tell you, and I wonder if she knows this, it was oh so very hard to find myself in a manner of normalcy with her daughter. I know this must be so selfish, but I remained so lost for so long. I actually remember paying such close attention to another friend of ours, Grace, and I admired so highly how she fought to bring normalcy back into the energy they and we all shared. They are such old family friends, and I knew at the time how strong of an impact this had. She was so strong and wise to push to regulate her friend back into life. I can only imagine for this beautiful family, one that has found their way, as a unit, how scorching of a feeling this was. I was overcome with an inability to properly communicate with this old friend of mine, and as I think now, I find it would still take conscious thought, although maybe I should not run. I think I definitely got better as the years went on, but it was actually more difficult having felt the miracle of their family before this passing, and then remaining with this feeling but only thinking that my actions are coming from a sense of guarding rather than pure love. I do remember, sort of, one day I had a viscious day with my mom at home, and I walked my way over to their home and sat on their stoop. I was nervous to knock so I waited, I think, but their open arms were something I will never forget. Their father, the strongest man alive, saw me, spoke to me, listened to me, and forever dated their family as my own. The tears I hold at this moment are for a remarkable group of people, a mother who was an angel and I swear to all that is above, she remains as our guardian angel now. To you three, with the most impact on my life, I love you and your families and I will always have you in my thoughts and prayers. I will remain with fierce dedication to protect and love.

Another paragraph, another daily thought process that only makes sense to share because it is straight off the daily dome, rather than trying too hard to write something worth reading (though it should be obvious I don’t care). To be very honest, I think about an old friend Ines the most, i’d say. I wonder often if she has changed in any similar manner as I have because I felt real close to her, as though we related nicely. She has class, wears and distributes it properly, and she is independent, all things others don’t tend to have. You’d agree she is special too. I don’t mind any form of moving on because I appreciate what was provided to me. I do think there is something to this consistent train of thought surrounding this lady but I find I can’t go back, or at least I wonder if I would be wasting my time. I really did not like the person I was when I was heavily spending my time with this lady and a gal Sascha. Gosh, it is not to regret because life was super gnarly (my favorite word these days), but I was definitely majorly out of touch. I can’t seem to risk checking in to see if their lives are still like that so I just send my love. I think of Sascha often too, but Ines finds her way in somehow, almost daily. They formed a strong bond the two of them and I am happy, there is a sort of feminine drive they both have that I have never desired. Actually, if Sascha was not preoccupied all the time, I think I would be confident that our roots would tie again but there are really only two people in this world who I consider blood from a different club. That is Dania and Elisa. I mean, they are my gaurdian angels along with Martha. I also tend to think my Uncle Willy and Grandfather are partially my gaurdian angels too, and my dad shall make it there one day. That is it though. Those in the past. I mean I think I am still recovering from losing those two gals, but I know more than I know most things, that my life would be superbly better with them in it. I mean they showed me what it means… life. I wanted to grow old with those two and nothing has changed. I love them with my entire heart. I messed up with both of them, although I think they saw my potential, which fucked things up, more than I ever could. I am surely messed up, but my ducks are quite rigid the past 6 months. I flew up there for a while, flew too close, and her I am, grounded. This is no plea, I am actually not sure who I speak to when I see viewers on my posts, I just needed to write this out at some point, and here it is. Dania is almighty in her decision and I really respect her for it. I always knew she made good choices. I trusted her with my life. She is very strong and I brought so much she did not have to experience into her life. For that I am sorry. For that I wish my parents were maybe a little more reflective of… everything. I think these unfortunate events with her have lead me to be a bit anxious and very aware of my actions and how they affect others. In some ways I don’t give a fuck, but in the important ways, I have become a protector of others and have provided myslef with appropriate, private times for myself, to induldge how I want to induldge. I wouldn’t mind sounding desperate to these two. One day I will. One day I have to reach out because I could die tomorrow. At least I have to reach out and give them a letter. I have to reach out. I need to hear them say again they need me out of their lives.

What more? A lot. I am often pondering life. At all times. When I reflect as I am doing now, I could explode because I feel nothing more than a vessel. I am not choosing much of anything, the brain of mine does the choosing and I am actually a combination of brain and water and other things, so that’s confusing. I know the brain controls it all, but it is not exactly mine because other things are also mine, so it can’t be mine 100%, you know? How come I have the cutest kitten in the world lying in front of me? I mean she overwhelms me a lot, she literally doesn’t speak english or make many sounds, but we love each other and everyday she is here on my bed and looking to love me. Thank you gato – Small fry, Pepper, Goose, Mama, I eat you now. Anyway, I definitely think about if I am really smart, really sick, or really stupid everyday. I mean I actually have trouble getting out of my own reflection a lot, I think they call it anxiety. I am way less anxious these days though, it is a miracle. The only thing that I see being bad, is I can’t make many stupid mistakes anymore or I could explode. I mean I had two typos in one sentence in the above paragraph and I sat back and ran through my questions about if i am sick. That is definitely not fun, but I say fuck it, and I move on. Moving on is very important. Anyway, besides the concrete people, there is not much I can recall that is prevelent and daily. Most everything is daily, just ask my thoughts and opinions on… anything. What I did write down today was these three words that are most powerful in my life right now: Expect, contrast, adapt. Those are super words. Not only from my job but life in general, literally anything and everything can happen at any given moment, so expectations are something you need to think about, whether it be the lack of or the intention of. Contrast is the only way you can understand something and it is different from comparison. Comparison is kind of binary and often has to do with the individual internally rather than straight fact and improvement. I don’t have time to explain that better but there is a way. Adapting is our superpower. It will keep us from technology takeover. Adapting is moving on, it is settling, it is control, it is everything.

Let me just say this, which I have tried to say properly but the fact that you have no idea what I am saying bothers me. I have downloaded tinder and hinge twice very recently, I have spoken to a few people but nobody I like. I haven’t had sex in about 4 months now and for the past year maybe I have had sex with two people. One of them only twice and the other an uncountable amount of times but not even that much…? This man has two babies and a wife, this man is hurt and challenged and weak. This man is the sexiest man I have ever met. This man and I’s chemistry is something I have only felt with a female, the female that messed me up and who I thought would be the ultimate sexual partner, until this man is the male version of her. I mean these “bad guys..” and girls, when they are smart, they are mighty. I am glad to be big enough to not fall in love like a coward retard over this man, although it did take me a while (still in the process) of not talking to him. Anyway… I have been off Thursdays so I have dressed a bit nicer (sexier) and done my thing, but I always hope I see this man. I think there is a mixture of when I feel sexy and when I think about him, because I know he’ll love what he sees, i’m in for the night. There is no changing the outcome of my night, whether with him or not, and only he knows what that looks like. Insanity. I love it. It is so personal and I am honestly so happy it is between him and I. Tonight will be the second time I am not in contact with him but I feel like he knows some nights I will be in my lovely lovely bed with my immense imagination. So fun! So frustrating! … Part of the fun! I do need to marry a man with the same chemistry or I won’t marry. This is super important. Okay. Time to go. Goodnight.