What Happens to a Dream Deferred?
Does it Shrivel Up like a Raisin in the Sun?
Or Fester like a Sore and then Run?
Does it Stink like Rotten Meat?
Or Crust and Sugar Over like a Syrupy Sweet?
Maybe It Just Sags like a Heavy Load.

–Or Does it Explode?

 –Langston Hughes

Read It!  Think about it!  Take notes! Most of all interact with it!

Reading is an act of giving.  An act of giving away control and lettiong your mind wander with the artist’s (author’s) direction.  You let the artist lead your hand through the interpretation with the guides they give you in the piece.  There is still plenty left for you to do in regard to your imagination.  I call this reading in the moment, you let yourself be aborbed into the time period, the location, and the description of the times and places the artist takes you to.  It is surrendering yourself to the will of another by faith.

In order to make reading worthwhile, you must feel the literature.  Live it as you read and the reading will have meaning.  Overtime your can begin to understand with your whole heart and your being.  Literature is a living art and should be treated as such.  Once you can be open, then you can respond to the message the artist has in mind.

I’d like to say that my day was the product of many an adulterated hallucinogenic street drug.  You know, the kind you get from the rebellious children of hippies burnt out a long time ago.  

Unfortunately a drink called the “Toddy” is responsible.  Cold brewed coffee, the style that takes twelve hours as water slowly drips over the sultry grains of pulverized black gold.  Then, by the grace of God alone, it is poured out of the carafe and served on ice. If you like, there could be room left for cream.  If it were on draft, you’d have to slice it at the end of the pour to take it away from the tap.

It is a buzz like no other.

No side effects to report as of yet.  With the exception of almost clear clairvoyance and purity of thought.  A Zen-like state of premature enlightenment.

The kind of bliss that makes you want to write philosophical rhymes without reason on crumpled pieces of napkins while listening to old school trance music over the P.A.   All the while just sitting in a coffee shop, where you could stare at the walls for hours and be happy.  For the first time in this lifetime, I could be content sitting in an empty room with only my thoughts to entertain me.

Who knows what the night will entail?

What ever it may be, it most definately will be an interesting evening.

     Back in my “prime,” I was considered to be one of the most trustworthy people there ever was.  Family, Friends, Customers, Criminals, Police, Random Asshats and, especially, Politicians would tell me all their secrets.  I could keep my mouth shut.

     I was always very good at keeping my mouth shut.

     Eventually, their problems would become my problems, in trying to resolve the injustices in a given situation.  Still, though I would play Devil’s Advocate for a lot, I’d keep my mouth shut.]

     I was always good like that.  That why everyone felt they could trust me … Why they felt I could keep their secrets.

     Those are the things that keep me up at night.  Not my guilt — no, other peoples.

     And it pisses me off.
     Many months ago, I finally got the opportunity to meet one of the objects of my torment.  I beat his sorry ass to a bloody pulp, all the time lecturing him about why it was a stupid idea to put me in this situation.
     A few months later, he killed himself.

     Good.

     One less asshat in the world.

     Too bad the sorry piece of trash never had the balls to apologize to all the people he’d screwed over in his life.  Too bad he never apologized to those he’d confided in when he took the “easy way” out of his guilt.
     No, his worthless ass left everyone else holding the bag, just like he always did.
     The very sad part is, most people will say, “Don’t talk ill of the dead!”
     Why the Hell not?

     I mean, come on, if their bullshit has tormented you for years, why shouldn’t you just come right out and say it?

     And what the Hell was wrong with me that I never said it before?
     Tonight, for instance, I saw someone I haven’t seen in nearly ten years.  A sweet girl who I tried to look out for in the absence of her parents.  A sweet girl who just always seemed to make bad decisions.
     Several times, I took the fall when she messed up.  Several times, I beat on someone severely when she was in harm’s way. 
     She was one of many “homeless” kids back then, and that’s what I did.  I lived downtown, and I tried to keep them outta trouble.

     Still, eventually, things got really bad for her, despite my best intentions.
     Marriage to someone I’d known for a long time, a cloak & dagger psycho snooping around, and a mysterious disappearance as the outcome.

     A few years afterwards, I realized the “mysterious disappearance” wasn’t so mysterious, afterall.  I ended up meeting up with that specific party in another town (in the same state, mind you!) hanging out with a few other mutual friends.
     I kinda figured everyone knew, except this girl.

     Before I left the country seven years ago, I talked to her late, one night, and said, “Hey, about all that shit … you know, doncha?”
     “Yeah.”

     I kinda thought that was the end of it until I saw her again tonight.

     Eventually, reminscing about old times caught up with me.  And maybe her, too.
     Everybody’d else had known for seven years.  Everybody.

     But, it seems, nobody ever told her.

     Just one less secret for me to have to keep.

     I don’t like that … hate that situation.

     Especially between friends and family.
     It’s no damn wonder I feel like I’ve lost my mind, all these secrets.
     Maybe one of these days I’ll figure out how to tell people without telling them… Just get them thinking enough to figure them all out.

     In the meantime, I guess I’ll just keep on keeping my mouth shut … keep on keep secrets that I don’t want …

     With other peoples’ guilt.

     Wish you pricks would spill the beans already, and quit leaving people like me hanging.