Wednesday Night.

It’s Wednesday. The night has come. I’m here. You’re there. This is us. Apart, yet close at the same time. Isn’t life funny like that? So much has been going on in my mind. Another mass shooting accompanied by another mass media coverage. Why haven’t they learned to not make stars out of murderers? Sadly, I guess that ratings mean more than morality. There’s that. I’m not going to go down the rabbit hole. Again, it’s Wednesday night. I’m here. You’re there. This is us. Apart, yet close at the same time. These are all of the things that I thought about writing this week. 1.) How? How do I wake up without knowing that you are beside me? How do I stand up without you there to guide me? How do I drive without you as my navigation? How do I come back to a happy home without you there waiting? How do I live without my better half? How do I grin? How do I smile? How do I laugh? How do I dream without someone to dream with, and for? How do I keep going without the urge to give the one that I love more than me more? What is Love without you, and what am I without we? I need you like the sky needs the sea. I need you like the sun needs the moon. I need you like four walls, a ceiling, and a door completing a room. With you, I’m completely complete. Without you, I am not completely me. It’s Wednesday night, and these are my thoughts…2.) January 6th Hearings. HOW MUCH MORE EVIDENCE DO YOU NEED? IF TRUMP WAS BLACK, HE WOULD HAVE BEEN GUILTY OF ALL CHARGES ON JANUARY 5TH! STOP IT ALREADY! 3.) Women. As Men, we are less than nothing without you. You give us purpose. Without you, we wouldn’t hunt or gather. We wouldn’t protect or defend. Each and every one of us is patiently awaiting the you that makes us feel more than Man. We are waiting for the one who can still gather the dust from our stolen dreams, pass it on to us, and help us make those dreams reality. Woman, you are our God. Perhaps this is why we feel the closest to Heaven when we are inside of you. You are our God. Woman, we worship you still. 4.) Gas Prices. NO ONE GETS IT!!! ENOUGH ALREADY!!! It’s Wednesday night, I’m all over the place. I’m working. I’m writing. I’m thinking. I’m living. Ain’t Wednesday Grand???? Patrick

This week, please do something for someone other than yourself for no other reason than to make their lives better. As always, if you make it to where you’re going, please don’t forget to leave a map for the rest of us. Always Choose Love Because Love Changes Everything…

Roe v. Wade

Today, in the United States of America, the land of the “free” and home of the “brave,” Women lost their right to choose. Today, a group of mostly men decided what was best for Women based loosely on the rules of law and mostly on the arrogance, insecurities, political compunction, and personal gain that many men live by. In the end, they disguised their decision as speaking for the lives of unborn children. (As if they will ever speak to them while they live. Go figure..). Nonetheless, today, Women lost their right to choose. Somewhere I read of the freedom of religion. Yet, the religious beliefs of some were directly imposed on the “freedoms” of others. Somewhere I read about liberty and justice for all. Yet, those liberties were taken away from Women today. How is that just? I am most certain that after I post this blog, I will probably be flagged or banned somewhere because I choose to stand with a Woman’s right to choose. In the words of Malcolm X, I’d rather die on my feet than live on my needs. Let’s be honest, men make choices everyday. Some choose to lie, some choose to steal, some even are willing to turn an entire Country on its head because of the small ego probably associated with the minuscule nature of his own manhood. Some choose to kill and scream self-defense in neighborhoods they don’t even reside in, visit, or have interest in. When I say that, I am boldly, honestly, and directly speaking of Kyle Rittenhouse. To me, he was a punk ass then, and today, he is still a punk ass with a dysfunctional microphone. There’s that. Today, I cry for my Mother. She loved this Country so much that she did everything that she could in order to make disenfranchised people of Color believe that their votes mattered. She raised me to speak up alone rather than remain a part of the silent majority. Today, I cry for my Sisters. Some decided when they were young that they didn’t want to have any children because of the some of the horrific things that were done to them. Today, I cry for my Daughter. Because it takes two to tango, what if one of the two wants the dance to continue while another wants the music to stop? Today, she lost her right to change the station. Today, I cry for my Country. We are no longer the land of the “free” because today, Women lost their most fundamental and God given freedom; the right to choose. What was once a Country of free people, in my opinion, is slowly, but surely, becoming a land so misguided by politics and jargon that it is willing to feed on itself in order to temporarily feel full. What happened today is wrong. This ruling doesn’t change the fact that Women will continue to have abortions. Today, this ruling only means that our government is willing to sit back and watch them die while doing so. Pro-life huh? How about beginning to show some authentic care for the lives of people that are here to live, tell, and share their stories? To all the Women of the Divided States of America, I am sincerely sorry. Joe Biden was right; today, abortion was inadvertently put on the voting ballot. The way I see it, we have one of two choices; we can complain in private, or we can collectively and publicly restore a fundamental God given right to the Women of this Country. If we do not, we deserve what we tolerate. On behalf of all men who stand with a Woman’s right to choose, I am so sorry…. Patrick

This week, please do something for someone other than yourself for no other reason than to make their lives better. As always, if you make it to where you’re going, please don’t forget to leave a map for the rest of us. Always Choose Love Because Love Changes Everything.

Mass.

Almost three weeks ago, a lone gunman went into Robb Elementary School and slaughtered 19 babies and two educators.  The cops stood outside and listened and watched.  Prior to that, a lone gunman went into Top’s Supermarket and slaughtered ten people that look just like me.  The cops gave him the privilege of surrendering.  (Based on my prior post, you know how I feel about that.). This weekend, three people died in the streets of Philadelphia.  The world watched, yet nothing seems to be happening.  In this Country, we are most certainly the world’s capital for mass shootings.  Yet, our government does nothing but talk.  One side says that we need gun reform.  The other side is saying that we need to protect our Constitutional right to own guns.  In the meantime, our people are dying. Children should never die at school.  Furthermore, parents shouldn’t have to bury their children after simply sending them to school.  Black people shouldn’t be killed while trying to buy groceries for their families.  People shouldn’t be slaughtered for simply enjoying the night life and city air.  Mass shootings.  I’ll tell you what we need in mass.  We need mass food supply in order to end mass hunger.  We need mass acceptance in order to end mass rejection.  We need mass intolerance of racism, sexism, and political bias that directly affects every inhabitant of the World.  We need mass understanding of our differences in order to begin to recognize our similarities.  We need mass gun control because clearly, the Constitutional right isn’t working.  We need affordable mass homes in order to end mass homelessness.  Being underpaid and overworked shouldn’t be a crime punishable by poverty.  We need mass love in order to end mass loneliness, depression, anxiety, and fear.  We need mass uniting of our communities in order to end mass division.  So yes, there are some things that we need in mass.  However, guns and shootings shouldn’t be one of them.  To the families of the victims of all mass shootings, I am so sorry for your loss.  Thankfully, Love is incapable of being destroyed, modified, or surrendering.  While I know that your hearts are bleeding, please know that the Love that you feel for your lost ones will remain perfectly intact for all of time.  If any of you are able to read this post, please know that I am more than a writer.  If you need to talk, I’m here.  Be well in mass…..Patrick

This week, please do something for someone other than yourself for no reason at all other than to make their lives better.  As always, if you make it to where you’re going, please don’t forget to leave a map for the rest of us.  Always Choose Love Because Love Changes Everything.

What If?

What if the Robb Elementary School shooter decided to buy a joint instead of a gun? I imagine that the children who died would still be able to play and run. What if we all said I’m sorry when we knew that we had wronged? I imagine that some of those we lost we still be here rather than gone. What if we said we’re in need more than we said, “I’m good?” I imagine there wouldn’t be so much tension in the hood. What if we said, no, this isn’t right. I don’t like this? I imagine that we would all have better understandings of pure bliss. What if we talked about the scars on our souls that sometimes keep us isolated? I imagine that we wouldn’t waste so much time and energy focusing on the people in our past that we actually hated. What if we ended racism and treated all people the same? I imagine a world full of joy and love in which we all called one another by name. What if, good or bad, we all knew the History of our past? I imagine that our world would be a better place, as strength and love would be the only things to last. What if we had more questions than we do answers? I imagine that we would have a cure for divorce, homelessness, poverty, and cancer. What if we loved one another more than we love things that will never love us back? I imagine a world in which conversations wouldn’t have to revolve around the differences between Black and White. What if we had family time without the presence of cell phones? I imagine that we would all feel more connected and less alone. What if we said, “I love you,” and actually meant it? I imagine that we’d cherish Love because when it comes, we’d know that God actually sent it. What if “I do” actually meant more than maybe? I imagine that we would be better parents to our babies. What if we embraced getting older more than attempting to stay young? I imagine that we could reflect, smile, and be proud of the things that we have done. What if making love was more important than going to the gym? I imagine that we wouldn’t be concerned about the opinions of she, he, her, or him. What if we decided to make a change, you know, do things differently? I imagine that there would be a better you, and in turn, a better me. What if there was actually Liberty and Justice for all? I imagine that when it comes to a woman’s body, our government would actually allow that woman to make the call. What if I were never hurt, would I still be me. I know that, despite all of that, I am so blessed to exist and be, well, me and free….Patrick

I was spiritually compelled. Forgive me. As the week continues, please do something for someone other than yourself for no reason than to make their lives better. As always, if you make it to where you’re going, please don’t forget to leave a map for the rest of us. Always Choose Love Because Love Changes Everything.

Affirmations.

The words that weren’t boldly spoken to me as a child. Because I grew up in a war zone, my Mother whispered these words to me out of both fear and respect. You are the only you that will ever grace this planet. You are so special. You are talented. You are Loved. You are worthy of Love. You are worthy to Love. You are beautiful. You are unique. You are blessed. You are strong. You are daring. You won’t always be down. When times get better, you’ll be more than ready. When times get tough, you’ll be more than ready. You are worthy of Family. You will never be forgotten. You are my Son, and I Love You… You are my Son, and I Love You. I lost myself for a while. I was lost in my own translation of all that I thought Life should be. No longer. Because I grew up in a war zone, I now believe the words that were whispered to me out of both fear and respect. I am the only me that will ever grace this planet. I am special. I am talented. I am Loved. I am worthy of Love. I am worthy to Love. I am beautiful. I am unique. I am blessed. I am strong. I am daring. I won’t always be down. When times get better, I’ll be more than ready. When times get tough, I’ll be more than ready. I am worthy of Family. I will never be forgotten. I am her Son, and I Love Her. I am her Son, and I Love Her. You are all my People, and I believe in You. You are all my People, and I believe in You. With that being said, take that leap of faith and trust that the net will appear. Even if it doesn’t, isn’t this view of the world amazing???? You Are…. Patrick

This week, please do something for someone other than yourself for no other reason than to make their lives better. As always, if you make it to where you’re going, please don’t forget to leave a map for the rest of us. Always Choose Love Because Love Changes Everything..

Savage.

Buffalo… Another city, same situation and outcome; horror, ambiguity, shame, and privilege. Ten lives were stolen while they were shopping for the things they both needed and wanted. Why? White privilege. Why white privilege? It seems that only white men have the right to take lives because they deem them either worthless or harmful. You remember the shooting in South Carolina. It seemed that murdering those innocent people caused the shooter to work up an appetite. Therefore, after he was caught, the police took him to Burger King for food. So, yes, I say white privilege. After the massacre was done, of course this young fool had the “right” to surrender to the police. Clearly, they weren’t afraid of him. Why? White privilege. Why do I say white privilege? It seems that only white men have the right to take lives they deem either worthless or harmful. The media says the courts are trying to determine whether or not this was a hate crime. Please, make that make sense. It clearly wasn’t a love crime. As I have written before, out of anger, I must write again. When it comes down to crimes being committed against my People, the law becomes gray, easily confused, and difficult to ascertain. Yet, when it comes to them, the law is both swift and clear. In fact, the law is frequently okay with the “arresting officers” playing the role of the cop, magistrate, attorney, judge, and ultimately executioner all within the same time and setting. You do remember Mike Brown, Eric Garner, Trayvon Martin, etc.. The list is too long to write. So, yes, I’m angry. I am sick and tired of my People being blamed for most of the problems in this Country. They call us violent, yet, we are rarely, if ever, accused of massive school shootings or crimes such as this. They call us ignorant, yet, it seems that some of the politicians in government right now either can’t read, or don’t read. What leadership? They say that we aren’t patriotic enough. How? How in the hell can we sincerely bask in the wonder of all that is patriotism when it seems that the patriots of today would prefer for my People to be buried beneath the soil that our Ancestors toiled and built? How can we be patriotic when your fear transcends our truth? How? If I am to remain silent and compliant in order to be accepted, you must as well. We should no longer teach about the civil war. We should no longer stand in awe of the plantation houses that exists throughout our Country. Honestly, we don’t find anything beautiful about them. There’s that. We should no longer talk about this “land of the free” when clearly, my People still aren’t. No. The savage within me hopes that this young man receives the justice that he is due. The Codes of Hammurabi should clearly apply in this particular case. An eye for an eye. I am angry. I have the right to be angry, so, yes, I’m angry. My People have had enough of this shit in this Country, and it is time for us to start fighting back. Let’s get up off of our knees, let’s stop singing, let’s stop marching, let’s stop carrying signs, let’s stop being compliant and complacent. Let’s be Americans… Liberty and Justice for All… Patrick

This week, please do something for someone other than yourself for no other reason than to make their lives better. As always, if you make it to where you’re going, please don’t forget to leave a map for the rest of us. Always Choose Love Because Love Changes Everything.

Suppose.

Even though we rarely say it, there’s something pretty magical about Wednesday nights. Wednesday nights are the hump. They represent freedom from the much hated Mondays and Tuesdays and gently welcome us to Thursdays and Fridays. Wednesday nights…. Tonight, I’m up listening to Maggot Brain by Funkadelic, and I find that I’m in my feelings. What am I thinking? Oh My God, I’m whole. Oh My God… I’ve been broken for so long that I confused being broken with the ultimate renovation of the soul. Simply put, as long as I had something to fix, I had purpose. I’m now proud to say that I’m officially fixed enough to feel worthy. Oh My God, I’m whole…. I now love from a place of hope and fearlessness rather than regret and shame. I have officially cut my ties with yesterday. In fact, because it’s Wednesday, I’m going to allow myself the luxury of rambling. Here it goes. Dear Yesterday, thank you for giving me something to remember. Even though it’s clear that you will not be included in my tomorrows, the when’s that we shared were magical. Even though I thought that I would never work again, I now realize that I had to be broken in order to work. Thank you for giving me permission to examine the parts of me that were saturated in shame, examining them, restoring them, and directly giving them permission to exist as their true self. Dear Yesterday, thank you for giving me something to remember. Dear Today, wow…. Where do I begin? Today, I find myself taking risks that I would have never taken yesterday. Talk about rash decisions… Not me. Not now. Not 51.. However, do you know what? Do you want to know something? I am finding a sense of freedom in my perceived irresponsibility that I haven’t felt in quite some time. Today, you make me remember the wonders of dreams that were stolen from me by the horrors of my past. I am now skipping past my pain and only remembering what felt good. You feel good. It’s amazing how a right turn can make everything go left. I love this left. I left my need to be in control behind because I sincerely felt as though I had no control, I left the need to always be “put together” in order to feel together, I left my need to be perfect in order for everything to feel perfect, I left my fear of change behind. I’m changing.. Today, you make me feel proud to be alive. You are my friend. You are the wall that I bounce my dreams from. You are what I needed without ever knowing that I needed you. Today, I am fully present and accounted for. I love today. My only issue with today is that it won’t last forever. However, today consistently gives birth to an innumerable amount of offspring. Today calls them tomorrows. I love them even more than I love today. Today, we are infinite. I suppose it’s time for this second chance teenager to live again. Today….. Patrick

This week, please do something to help someone other than yourself for no other reason than to make their lives better. As always, if you make it to where you’re going, please don’t forget to leave a map for the rest of us. Always Choose Love Because Love Changes Everything.

The Wire.

As a Black Man, I exist in a circus called Life.  America is my tent. Recently, I’ve been involved in “richer” conversations about equality and equity.  Let’s be honest, when we are born, the only things that are relatively accessible to all of us are air and time.  As we grow older, we become painstakingly aware that although we breath similar air, our times here are very different.  Forget equality. That will never happen, as the wealthy have convinced themselves they’ve pulled themselves up from the bootstraps, while the poor can’t afford the boots. Let’s talk equity.  In order for things to be equitable, there are very important words that are rarely, if ever, required in those talks; equitable distribution.  Simply put, someone is going to have to give up something in order for another to have something.  Are we ready for that?  Oladuh Equiano once wrote about the cost of luxury in relation to the price of blood.  Was it worth it?  Only to those who live a life of luxury.  I won’t say that the wealthy are blessed, as blessed is highly relative.  If you’re looking for an example of what I mean, here it goes.  Sometimes, the poor are blessed with authentic, enduring, and undying love.  Sometimes, the wealthy are cursed with both animate and inanimate beautiful things and people that will never love them back.  As they slumber, some ask themselves the same question in rapid succession; “is this what I worked for?”  Yet, some of the poor are fortunate enough to experience the richness of Love for no other reason other than breathing.  I’m not going to get lost in the weeds, so I’ll return to my original statement.  As a Black Man, I exist in a circus called Life.  America is my tent.  I’m expected to play small enough to be non-threatening, intelligent enough to remain silent while smiling, nodding, and offering thanks for the privilege of being in the room, and educated from colleges and universities without ever knowing anything of myself other than the intentional crumbs that have fallen from the fat of their tables.  Sometimes, when I dream, I dream of the ancestors that I don’t know.  Did their eyes look like mine?  Did they have my smile?  Did they find reasons to laugh?  Were they warriors?  Were they Kings and Queens?  Did they have music that moved their soul and spoke to their hearts?  How did they survive slavery?  Did they pray for my future life?  If so, do I measure up?  Do they have any guidance for me?  As I grow older, I find that I have more questions than answers.  Me, I am a product of America.  I dance when the lights turn on, smile when the cameras focus, and cry out of desperation each time I sing.  America finds my pain beautiful.  Me, I desire to know what it feels like to be pain-free.  I walk the wire.  The balancing of life, pain, dreams, and purpose are often times confused with success.  During the day, I guess you could call me successful.  Yet, when the night comes; nights like tonight, I have questions.  What must it feel like to stand upon solid ground and know that nothing is going to try to knock me down?  What must it feel like to know that I, too, am included in all that is now?  Hell, what must it feel like to know the native dishes of your Country of origin?  Me, I don’t even know my Country.  I walk the wire.  While you sleep, I wash my feet, pad my shoes, and strengthen my stance.  While you exist in all of the wonders of the American dream, me, I walk the wire… Patrick

This week, please do something for someone other than yourself for no other reason than to make their lives better.  As always, if you make it to where you’re going, please don’t forget to leave a map for the rest of us.  Always Choose Love Because Love Changes Everything.

PTSD.(Pleasetellsocietydon’teveragaintellAfricanAmericansthatslaveryisoverandtheyshouldgetoverit!)

It’s Monday, and I’m going to jump right into it.  Personally, I believe that many African Americans are still struggling from the emotional, mental, societal, economic, political, judicial, educational, and physical traumas inflicted on us due to the “peculiar” institution of slavery in this Country.  In our desire to grow, many of us decided to simply go.  We left our communities.  We left those who helped mold us.  For some, we even left our institutions of higher education in order to be mis-educated.  Let me be clear, while I am proud that I have the education that I have gained, the lessons I use on a daily basis were taught to me by people that society would deem uneducated.  My Mother was right; the difference between school and life is school gives you a lesson that prepares you for a test.  Life gives you a test that teaches you a lesson.  I have learned many lessons.  Back to PTSD.  The mental health of African Americans is rarely, if ever, acknowledged.  The adjectives often used to describe us are “trouble maker, disturbed, bad, thugs, gang bangers, con-artist, evil, etc.”  Yet, when compared to our Caucasian counterparts, for the same or similar actions, the words used to describe them are “troubled, in need of help, came from a good family, was such a good kid, where did we fail them, and sadly, victim..”  Yes, that is true.  Can you imagine the feeling of always being aware that every system in this Country is not truly meant to protect or provide for you because of the color of your skin?  As an African American Man, I have walked in that reality every second of every day of my life.  Yes, mental health is real.  As I fight for my own mental health, I strongly encourage everyone around me to do the same. Recently, I had a friend ask me whether Dr. King fought for equality or equity.  Hmmm… Equity is a fairly new trend.  Equality, or the need for it, is not.  I will say that equality represents the table and equity represents the utensils.  Until we all have identical or similar tables, then, and only then, can we begin to discuss equity.  In 1954, we took great pride in the integration of schools.  Many African Americans felt that their children would be better educated because they would attend schools with students that didn’t look like them.  They felt that the instruction and the texts would be better because they were being offered to students that didn’t look like them.  They thought that the acquisition of a diploma or a degree from once segregated schools would give their children a “leg up” in society.  Schools were integrated, and many of us were proud.  However, today, the curriculum taught to students remains just as segregated as it was then.  We are graduating classes of “I have no idea who I am, where I come from, and to what place do I authentically belong in this society” every single year.  The parents stand, clap, cry, and celebrate.  The students do the same.  Yet, we continue to have no idea of who we are, where we come from, and our place of authentically belonging in this society.  To educate a child is to expose a child to knowledge.  To train a child is to constrict that child to “certain” information.  Education liberates.  Training limits.  As I have written before, I will say again, the time has come for us to reevaluate our way of thinking.  The time has come for us to break the cycle of being okay with not knowing our true history in order to “fit in or get by.”  The time has come for us to demand acknowledgement, apologies, reparations, restructuring, and true equality.  Crumbs that have fallen from the table have never made me full, and I have never wanted to be in a room full of people that don’t want me there.  I don’t want to be tolerated.  I want to be accepted, respected, heard, seen, understood, and always included.  To this day, I still seek to be American…. Patrick

This week, please do something for someone else other than yourself for no reason at all other than to make their lives better.  Also, if you make it to where you’re going, please don’t forget to leave a map for the rest of us.  Always Choose Love Because Love Changes Everything…

The Lot.

When I purchased my first brand new car, I must say, the experience was absolutely wonderful.  The first time I saw that car, the only thing on that lot that mattered was THAT car.  The test drive; oh my God! I had never experienced anything so smooth and powerful. I signed the contract. After I gave my signature, like a child receiving the greatest gift in the world, I received my keys.  After knowing that the car was mine, it was brought around to me.  My how that car shined!  The sun seemed to shine differently.  The road felt different.  The music played on the radio sounded different.  It was more full; more vibrant.  When parking that car, I parked far away from wherever I was going because I didn’t want any harm to come to that car. I loved that car.  As time passed, I washed the car less frequently.  If I drove a little over 3,000 miles, it was okay.  I’d get the oil changed eventually.  The more time passed, the more I dreamt of owning a new car.  You see, I loved the smell of new cars.  I loved the feel.  I loved the sleek, new look.  As I reflect on Love, I often think of the lot.  Like the purchase of a brand new car, you can’t Love the first person that makes you smile, pause, or wonder.  No, you ultimately end up deciding on the person that meets most of your wants and needs.  As I have grown, I have grown to understand that other than yourself, no one can fulfill or satisfy everything inside of you.  Honestly, I believe that is too much pressure to place on another person. So, I tried my hand at Love.  As I have written in the past, I will write now; I failed at understanding Love.  Me, I was in Love with the beginning.  I was in Love with the first look, the first time we touched hands, the first time we kissed, the first time that we made love, and the first time that the morning sun gently kissed our faces waking us up at the same time in the same place.  I was absolutely smitten with new.  Regretfully and immaturely, when I was sometimes engaged in verbal discourse (arguments) with my partners, I would lead with, “in the beginning, everything was so perfect.”  Like my first new car, everything is great in the beginning.  The work of maintaining Love is where I fell short. I didn’t know how to work at Love because I had never seen Love work.  I was ill equipped.  I didn’t realize that true Love isn’t based on the beginning.  True Love is born in the middle.  In the middle, you’re forced to let your representative rest in order to test the waters of walking as your true self.  You’re not always well dressed.  You’re not always groomed.  You’re not always at the best restaurants, listening to the latest music, while entertaining people that you probably have nothing in common with. No, in the middle, we’re going to Walmart in order to buy toilet paper, shampoo, snacks of a certain kind, and lounging in our favorite pajamas.  In the middle, we sometimes don’t like each other, but it’s clear that we Love each other.  In the middle, when you’re afraid, you’re not afraid to say so.  In the middle, it’s okay to say, “help me.”  In the middle, the sex isn’t always spectacular, but it’s always good.  You see, in the middle, it’s clear that you recognize some things that you don’t like, but the things that you Love clearly outweighs them.  In the past, I was a used car in search of an owner who didn’t realize that I was used.  I wanted an owner to believe that I was brand new, with zero miles, the new car scent, and a warranty that was fully intact.  In real life, I have so many miles, my odometer has stopped counting, my scent now permeates frankincense and Egyptian sandalwood, and I have learned to repair the broken parts of me.  My prayer is that I lose myself in the middle.  This way, I will never arrive at Love’s end.  Even when my time on this side of the Sun is over, the middle will continue to grow because true Love never dies.  Why?  Nothing real can ever be broken, and true Love never dies……Patrick

This week, please do something for someone other than yourself for no reason at all other than to make their lives better.  Also, if you make it to where you’re going, please don’t forget to leave a map for the rest of us.  Always Choose Love Because Love Changes Everything.