Taken by surprise

its been a while. 

i know it has actually been more than a while. one of those periods in my life where i know i should be creating. understanding the need to do something, the brutal call of my own wilderness singing in discordant controlled harmony. but as with everyone else in this world, i too am extremely lazy. sometimes. 

the number of moments where i was walking in the golden sun of my adopted home, music perfectly synced in that way you think you must have an etherial sound man watching you from your own personal gods, have been so manny that i care not to think about it. always wishing i had spent the luxury at the smythson's counter in liberty and started keeping my thoughts on paper.

once, twice, three times too many. even just this week, i was there with my sister in law. showing off my home like a cat bringing in a dead bird to see. i've never pretended anything but greatness for this city i have chosen to make my home. i profess the electricity which dances on the olfactory vistas of self that still draws me deeper into her.

my gal london.

 

we have been through so much together. fifteen fucking thanksgivings. three grownfolk relationships. one half marriage and an actual one to boot. when i first got here i never thought i would be singing these silent songs of pride to myself. my quest for ever burning skies finally standing up to collect its toll is something i never have worried about. letting my song sing its way through love, pain, anger, and happiness has sculpted my mind into hearing its own truth. helping me tell myself my own secrets in a way that makes my heart colour itself with that song.

playing it all at maximum volume, i sometimes wonder if people think this is all a bit solipsistic, but that is their own choice. time marching on has made me realise that i can not do anything about someone else's voice until i can hear my own. and that is hard when you have the scree of a very active mind constantly barraging every aspect of your life. the noise gets boring sometimes. but silence will do nothing other than make me disappear.

i guess that is what made me decide to start writing again. similar in its genesis to the climb, this immovable yet immeasurable force makes me face my own truth. that mirror to self that i put up, hoping that night will one day give way to morning. but waiting for another day is useless without hope. 

my hope.

the force which has led me through all of my life. growing up gay in west texas shows you that in order to change the world, you have to hold onto hope. never to go your separate way from it. hoping it gets better. hoping to find someone like me. how lucky i am to have not only found others like me, but to have found the other half to my whole. 

so as the night music softly dilutes the remaining adrenaline left over from 15 years of making my home here, i can say that when i look back on tonight, i can say the first part of my journey is finally at an end. i have found true family here in every aspect of my life. i have found places in this world of mine to not only call home, but the people in it all have become as individually distinct and special to me in a way that only those in your home can be. i will never understand the luck of the draw that brought me here to this place, but i will also never take it for granted.

thank you. 

all of you. now let's go climb a mountain.

happy thanksgiving, y'all.