…and other lyrics that meant absolutely nothing to me thirty years ago and that read much better out of context…Thank you, dear L, for indulging me in music, excellent food, and a jaunt down memory lane. And thank you for the gifts. You rock, mamacita. I simply love you.
Since the mishigas of last week I have taken stock of things and spoken with some of my favorite people and holy shite did I need out of that web of toxicity. There are more elegant ways I could have handled matters, but I’m going to attempt to be Machiavellian about it all. And the people at the center of that environment have no impact on my life. Except for you, dear lad, but I know you already know this, and ours is a friendship writ in the stars. Onward and upward. We’re going good places. Like Chicago. And back to the Bronx.
It is so easy to get caught up in the bullshit and forget how far we’ve come, all of us. It’s so important not to, and a big part of that is not adding to the negativity and stooping to the levels of our perceived enemies. This is the real world, and there’s no table here for the cool kids. In the real world the artists and poets and trombone players and AV squad and people who think for themselves and buck the trends and dream bigger than most are the ones who rule. Be kind to yourselves and be kind to others, because we’re all dealing with something.
Someone asked me today how I feel comfortable exposing my past and my psyche in this forum. The short answer: it’s cathartic, it’s making me a better writer, and it matters to people I love and some whom I have yet to meet. I’ve spent way too long feeling the need to hide certain aspects of myself and that really never worked. The people I connect most with get it, and I don’t have anything to hide from them. Nor do I have reason to be in denial. This is me, flaws, fabulous assets and all. And you who read my words give me purpose. Milles grazies.
Not to mention, there is a hell of a lot left unrevealed …