Forty Nine.

I am a relic of the past.  I remember days when people spoke in bars, legitimately danced at parties, and looked one another in the eye when they had something to say.  I remember a time when anxiety was called life, depression was called temporary sadness, and the word ghetto was offensive.  I remember a time when men decided that in order to get a good woman, they had to improve their conditions rather than give well illustrated excuses for why they were where they were.  I am a relic of the past.  It seems that the entire world changed while I remained the same.  Possibly, this is the very reason that I find myself looking backwards for feelings of warmth rather than ahead.  Here it goes; I hate social media.  Honestly, when I post on social media, after finding the right angle, I find myself trying to make the most mediocre part of my day seem extraordinary in order to make the viewers of the post believe that it is so.  I promise you; it’s mediocre.  Sadly, it seems like mediocrity is slowly becoming the new excellence because it’s done with consistency.  Consistently, I do the same things day after day.  I get up, I go to work, I go to the gym, I come home, I write, and I do it all over again.  I’ve been desperately seeking newness in a state of sameness.  I need something new to excite me to the point where I no longer want to be the same.  I need it.  I don’t have millions of people that read my blog, so I can be as honest as I want because I am not a politician, nor do I have sponsors that I need to either satisfy or pacify.  This is me.  I hate taking photos because I believe that they rob me of each second of the moments that make me feel happy.  Stopping to take a picture gives me just enough time to dread going back to the mediocrity that I call consistency.  How I miss yesterday.  Then again, yesterday had it’s issues to.  The only difference is that I both survived them, and I now know everything about it.  I took the long road to tell you that I’m uncertain more than I’m certain.  I’m uncertain about life.  I’m uncertain about success, and most importantly, I’m uncertain about love.  The thing that women don’t get about me is that my body is connected to my heart.  I don’t want to play with you in order to lay with you.  If I lay with you, I want to stay with you.  I’m not fourteen.  I’m not interested in building a stable.  I want to build a home.  I’m too far gone in my career to want to discuss my career because it’s what I do; it’s not who I am.  Lately, I’ve been thinking that because I created a graveyard of broken hearts, my broken heart is karma.  However, I refuse to believe that a forgiving God would forgive me and make me suffer after asking for forgiveness.  I don’t believe that at all.  I believe that God has taken the bandages off of my heart.  Because the bandages have been removed, it stays clear of anything that reminds it of what broke it in the first place.  In this time of COVID 19, I think that we should enjoy life to the fullest.  I think that we should travel, dance, eat, laugh, sing, make love, make time, and most of all make memories.  I think that we should seek to understand the fullness of life while we have it rather than continually plan for a day when we could potentially be too weak to enjoy it.  I have a great deal of questions.  Perhaps you have some answers.  Whatever the case may be, I pray that we begin to speak again.  God knows that the world doesn’t need another well orchestrated social media post.  Right now, the world needs love, patience, understanding, and peace.  May it begin with me.  Patrick

As always, 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.

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