Oh the silence

The silence is the hard part.


Even listening to music, the silence is tough.

So this is what maturing and growing feels like at the age of 50.

Maybe that should be the stupidity and silliness.

Then again I have been pretty hard on myself most of my life.

Do I enjoy destroying things, and I don't mean cars, houses or boats? I'm talking relationships, people and beliefs.

I am a fake.

The inner me, which I think hides in my crotch area, cares about fulfilling himself. Not just sexually but personally.

It is the demon teasing me.

That would be find and dandy if I drank, but I don't.

I am the devil in disguise.

The boy who cringed when another girl would write in his yearbook that he was "sweet: guy. Sometimes they spelled it sweat. That would be more accurate since I can stink things up.

I can take a perfect day and turn it into a dangerous thunderstorm in seconds.

I am working on that.

As they say, we are all works in progress.

There are times I feel that I have been given a good narcotic to make me relax and think things through before I say something.

I might be able to put words together as a writer, but I am a shitty talker. I struggle with putting the words together verbally.

Maybe it is one reason I have been the way I am.

Time to take a deep breath and think about it.

No need to blurt the first thing that comes to my mind.

Take it easy.

Nice and slow.

Say it to yourself.

Oh, the silence.

What do you have for me now.

More lessons in life await.