Beginning to Re-See the Light

I had something when I moved to this weird bowl of swamp and circumstances. I had the important/the real things in life on a pedestal and the other shit somewhere below it looking up.

Recently found the pedestal again, now looking for stuff to put on it.

I Am My Own Badman

The day after Mardi Gras brought one significant event:

My friend Marissa posted the following on her wall:

"Versus parading and drinking Ive decided to spend a day with my dad in the yard..some may call that lame but I call it father/daughter time nothing like it."


Mardi Gras felt off again this year, albeit for different, less dramatic reasons than last. I was doing everything my friends were: drinking starting at 9 in the morning, getting into an elaborate costume with a witty slant to it, trying to make contact with every acquaintance who might be in the area, smoking pot on the sidewalk, throwing rainbow beads from the balconies of gay bars.

But when I got home I laid in my shower in confusion and relief wondering why I wasn’t smiling.

I stumbled my dazed body to my computer this morning to see what crazy things my other friends had done and saw Marissa hung out with her father.

Because she wanted to.

And there’s the key.

Doing the things you think most people do for a good time rarely leads to your own good time. The real fun lies in having the courage to do exactly what you want and not let the vapid majority diminish the value in that.