Here I am in the middle of a monsoon.

It's been raining for 5 straight days, but it's the best of what Orlando has to offer. I'm promised to be drenched no matter what I do, no matter where I go. I am able to use it as a natural cooling system. But quiet frankly, I'm over it.

Before the red decide to stain the radar, I was sitting at a little quaint restaurant on Lake Eola, a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon in hand, and the pages of Charles Bukowski placed nicely on my lap. Swan boats stayed afloat in my peripheral, and I was, for once, at peace. But as soon as I arrived, I had to leave. A parking meter stands in the way of lasting happiness, and unluckily for me, I don't keep coins on hand.

As soon as the floods leave I can be dry. As soon as I'm dry I can think straight once again. But until then, I will complain about the inconvenience. I need the peace.

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Meaning of Life

I asked a man the other day what he thought was the meaning of life.

He stood confident and prepared. After inhaling and tossing a sideways grin, he answered in a soft and grizzly voice:

"Most people believe that the key to happiness is of clean virtues, that the only way to attain complete satisfaction is by success and reaching ultimate goals. I bid you, my fellow student, to stray from such believe and listen closely. Do not believe such ignorance. The path to happiness is in fact irrelevant. To repeat, the path to happiness is not a golden road. It isn't paved in good intentions with pretty smiles and perfect teeth. In fact, the path is sometimes not perceived as even a path at all. However you obtain your happiness is your business. But I'll tell you, my friend, if you dwell in what keeps you happy, no matter what it truly is, then indeed you have entered into the best of feelings, into the best of times, and into the best of what life has to truly offer. Even if you grin through dirty and tattered clothing, laugh behind houses of trash, you aren't what you wear. Hold yourself in high regard. Forget what they tell you. Your roads or lack there of are full of nails, glass, shattered things. But you don't have to be made of such fragile elements. Your path to happiness is irrelevant. As long as your conclusions achieve you joy."

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You Will Meet Me in the Afterglow.

Where have I been..?

I’ve asked myself the same thing. But I promise you, I have been looking. Every corner remains touched; hungry eyes have kissed every precious virgin spot over this brewing broth of earth. It gets scary.

It is terrifying.

It’s hard to wake up someone else. It is hard to never remain the same. A constant state of flux. I have to get used to such new postures, such likes. I’ve had to relearn names, remeet people, recare. It’s not easy.

It’s not easy being not me.

I’m burrowing into a blog and searching, bleeding all the while, but searching, for keywords, for someone, something, that lifesaving excerpt that will lift such precious feet to unbalance on such clouds of doubt.

Conspiracy?

There are black suit men all about me, in marching ant fashion, and me, like a piece of bread, am dormant, and only my physical presence keeps me alive. I see you out in the crowd, with a million empty eyes, and you’re just the same. The queen machine thirsting for man’s insecurity.

But the time is slipping.

I cannot move as I’m pinned on a clock, waiting for the hour hand to throw me off. This is not so. This cannot be. This will not be.

The film is running out.

A flash. A spin. A rewind. Over.

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