Just be.

I punched a wall.

That was stupid.

I walk back and forth to the mirror most days, yet every time I check it's still just me in the reflection. I've always been obsessed with mirrors. I thought if I could look at other people and see into there existence, then maybe I could understand my own in the looking glass. I've yet to make anything but fallible sense of me.

I think I'm to the point in all of this where I just get on my knees and beg for forgiveness. Which is exactly what I did...after I punched the wall. I wear this necklace around my neck, so obviously my most prized possession, featuring 2 charms of contrasting worth but equal value. One, a shamrock my cousin Kayla bought for me for two quarters at a garage sale in Rochester. We also bought peace sign and flower jewelry cuz we thought the 70's were cool that summer. Big mistake. The other charm is a pinky ring, which doesn't even fit my pinky, that belonged to my great great grandmother. It has been passed down from mother to first daughter for a good many generations. My grandmother, the greatest women to ever live in the history of women living, gave it to my eldest Aunt. Eldest, not oldest. Yes, there's a difference. My aunt didnt have any childer and thus, the scandal arose when she chose to give it to me, not the eldest niece and not the rightful heir. Still, I've worn this thing everywhere but onstage with me, when either my Mom or the most trustworthy techie in the joint wears it. I like that it has seen the good stuff and the bad stuff. Its like a family member in that way.

I always heard getting what you want isn't what it seems. I just didn't know it was true. Seems to me no luck is perfect luck, no wish comes with accurate karma. Dreams come true, they just aren't painted in the same colors you'd imagined. I think the smart people find a way to accept this. Afterall, isn't reality more exciting than a script?

And this is, the final lie. The ultimate lie. In order to get what I now need, I have to let so much wash away from me. Like a silk scarf into a river. Or a ring in the bottom of the drain.

The life of rebel is no afterparty. It's shit and dumb luck, bad luck and constant intensity. Mine is a continued history of brilliance, a smile as direct result of a laughable outspokenness. Yet every spotlight has its shadow. I have my lies, and secrets, my scapegoats and phony alibis. I wish it were an honest path to get to where I am, but nothing real is golden. It's a little bit silver. I have no bronze. Shit, who do you think I am?! There was a time in my life when all that matter was Bronze, Silver, and Gold. One got you the worst, disappointed silence I could ever imagine, one brought reprimand via boot camp, and the last got you, "Why isn't this Elite Gold?" Satisfaction was never the issue, it was how well you told the lie. I can't believe I grew up as an artist like that.

What's more important, lying in order to move on, or having an honest heart?

I won't make this about the past. I will do how I do and take a shot at answering the aforementioned question. How did this night become the enemy? It's over, it's over, it's over.

Just be.
I have never felt more here than I do in this moment. Never more alive, at least recently, and unattached to the mistakes I have been making for such a long time coming. Maybe forgiveness and faith are like milk and cookies, sun and summer, scarves and rivers.






..Ricky.
"Take My Hand" by: The Cab