My first morning home

Okay...

When does it happen?
Where is it? I'm waiting, i'm waiting, where are youuuu?
This next step, this magical opportunity to create a new chapter. I've been so fortunate to customize my destiny, rather than settling, I have had the luxury of choice. Now, I have chose to come home, in order to develop further choices. Where arrree youuu? That's the voice that woke me up this morning. The "What now?' The "How Long" will I be here. I don't want to unpack because my mind has already moved from home. It's already invested in the many choices that have set the stage to change my life.

Due to my circumstances I won't just TELL YOU what I have to decide upon, but I will tell you, I need more. One of my friends said, "well, t least you have options." As I swipe a couple dog hairs off my keyboard, I realize they are right. I do have options, some of them are great, but I want others. Another friend mentioned, how it sucks sometimes when they're too many options, then you drive yourself mad. Maybe they're right; rather have an A or B, versus: 1a 1b 1c 2a 2b 2c 3a...and so on. But, like I said, "Where are they, where is it, I'm waiting." I just endured at nine and a half hour drive, and for some reason I want to keep driving, keep moving, I need some more choices

I'll keep waking up, listening to the voices

Writing thru a headache

So... I called home the other day and spoke to my wonderful mother. We discussed matter concerning my travels home, (in which I've yet to fully pack). Let me just say that "Babel" is a fucking amazing movie! Why didn't this get more marketing because as subtle as it was, it had the same effect as "Crash" if not more with me, and I digress. (yeah it's on right now)

While talking with my mother we discussed things concerning our family and one that I will bring into the light is my lil' brother. I love him so dearly, I hope that I've been a good model for him. A;though, I hope he doesn't follow down my path of womanizing, indecision, and self doubt. I try to present a good case. Regardless of MY flaws, what has come to the light of his female situation, which has never been a problem for him. My brother looks like me, except he is lighter, taller, and as mature as me, in some cases ( that's pretty good for an eighteen year old) So, I find out, my bro. is seeing a fly young woman. I've heard she is sweet, bright and beautiful. Thank goodness because what would I do if my brother ran into some of the girls I've seen in my life!?

Well, the young lady is my age. (GO KB!) Yet I couldn't resist to think, "my lil bro can get a woman my age, and he can do this effortlessly. And Me? I have dated girls close to his age, if I want someone relative to my age, well I better get in line if I want to find someone who doesn't have one or more kids, married or some other extraordinary experience. I know this isn't usual, yet think about me... okay well, I tend to always think about me, and I cause you to too eh?

Eat your veggies

Tommy brought an interesting point this evening. (And this evening I mean 9/24, I write ahead) He said he never ate his vegetables. Okay, I can understand, as a kid, he just refused them and never got in the habit of eating veggies. Well, how long can a human possible survive without them? I'm not into the factual data involved in discussing the matter, but if you want to enlighten me, then go right ahead.

The thing is...
Who said we HAVE to have vegetables? Are the must to long lasting survival because if not, WHY DID YOU TRICK ME?? Tommy stated to me, "You know I never ate veggies. I grew up during the war, so all our vegetables went to the soldiers. It wasn't like I refused them, they just weren't accessible, so I never ate 'em." Fair enough point, how else could he have his proper "green" intake, and if you aren't used to them while growing up, we all know its hard to change as an adult.

You want to know the real reason he hasn't eaten vegetables to date. Well he says why in the fuck should he eat them now, they just say to eat them because they'll keep you from eating other things. Wow, good point, this Scot is a quick one. As much as I think our past three beers may have guided that response, he has a point. Think of it, (and I know plenty of you factual individuals can prove me wrong), but he said, "veggies keep you from eating more starch, more sweets, more carbs, that are detrimental to our health. But, veggies don't have anything in them, except water! So, I'll have another glass!" What a guy! Yet, i couldn't escape the thought that maybe he had an argument. What has a piece of celery, carrot or lettuce done for my body? It has filled me up, and taken the place of an extra serving of macaroni. So maybe my old friend is right, for a guy who NEVER has veggies (i'm talking about no lettuce or tomatoes n a burger, just plain) he has been getting around pretty good.


Then again, it's not going to stop me.

Laundromat Prattle

"Hey!! Maryland, how ya doing?!"

Words from a man I first encountered in the beginning of summer. We crossed paths at the laundromat, this being our second time, so we spent our time catching up. I figured I could always write later, why not devote time to an individual who presents me with such a warm spirit. After we loaded our clothes in our respective washing machines he offered to treat me to a slice of pizza and soda. Although, I just devoured a giant plate of spaghetti, I couldn't see a problem in enjoying MORE FOOD, yes I suffer from a glutinous condition.

We talked a bit, small talk really; eventually I discussed the matters of "Unclassifiable" and he was thrilled to hear the positive news. He continued to praise me on the racing mechanics, traveling and now writing. I graciously thanked him and addressed interest in his life. Omitting most details I will mention the key "show stopper" that generated a deep conversation. I asked if his wife would enjoy poetry and he clarified that his wife eluded him without warning.

No need to reiterate the entire conversation, but this guy was a decent fellow. Hard working, saved money, and he and his wife shared a daughter. One day he woke up...and she was gone. He filed a missing persons report, and the police notified him that she was unreachable, but okay. Eventually he discovered she flew across the country and did not communicate to him for two entire years. Until she came back looking for the money. Now, he wasn't desiring pity, but he lost his job two weeks before his ten year mark, and then his wife splits. Now he pays for his daughter to goto a university, works two jobs, and I believe he is remarkable human being. A decent man. I signed a book "To an amazing father, enjoy the book and hope to see you in the future."

I didn't feel bad for him because he was a man who was capable of handling his situations. Yet, I couldn't help but to think how tragic it must feel to wake up to someone you said, "I love you" to yesterday, and they are gone. Vanished. removed, not by death. He suggested for me, "get a pre-nup." He said that he never in a million years would have thought that THAT could happen to him. You never know...and who knows he could be a drunk, abusive or addicted to gambling, but I doubt he possessed those negative traits. Maybe he was Good Guy, and well we know where they finish.

"you've got a running start"

Says my sis, after I conversed on how I will managed to keep this charade flowing.

Seriously,
What in the hell is going to keep me writing? I mean tragically, I can't fathom writing three hundred and sixty-five times, I don't think enough shit occurs in my life for a such a thing. And I could care less who enjoys the reading adventure I'd like to take you on, fan base isn't vital to survival. Although, knowing my expressed thoughts are considered to be apart of your daily delights intrigues me.

How will I keep it up? I can't say, but as of late I have been particularly kind to the pages. Keep an eye out for the mood swings, I live by being a Gemini, and I thrive in not having the same day twice. Once I might splice a bit of poetry just to entice your mind. But for the most part, I'm going to live off of daily interactions, observations and conversations. Just wait 'til I get home, oh yess BALTIMORE (I won't start), but I ponder if my refuge to Canada was enough to truly shake habits; especially since I have developed new ones. Or will I return back to the rift of malcontent I so thoroughly flourished in? We'll see...

One great habit I can't wait to get back into is the second season of Californication, check it out. I'm not endorsing it so I dare not go into specifics, that's what Google is for. Just check into it, and tell me if you like it. I think I do because of the darkness that is subliminal in the main character's life. Anyways, you want me to write for ya, then keep on talkin' to me, last thing I want to do is wallow in a cesspool of self pity because I'm doing fuck-all with twenty-six letters.

Vicious Cycle

and the cycle

begins.

This cycle of pain, this repetitive motion where victim and victimized cast down roles to newcomers. I won't be long because it doesn't take much to make this subject explicable. But, we all (should) know about pain, in some sort of fashion or another. The pain from losing a dog, a friend as a child, a loved one, and the reprehensible pain of heartache. Beats thunder through your soul, echoing in the silence of loneliness. Yeah it's that kind of hurt. We all (should) know and we all dread its untimely deliverance.

Today, I spoke with an old friend about their situation and how life has been treating them since we last spoke. In which I was described a person I had not recognized; filled with anxiety, stress, pain, distrust and paranoia. This coming from a person that was extremely laid back, fun, carefree, and full of love. They claimed that they were, "fucked for life when it comes to relationships now lol its sad actually." Their own recognition that all hope of loving, trusting and believing in true love had vanished. Although, I believe that in time this will scab, and eventually heal. Leaving a mark to remind them of what they had been through, but someday returning back to love. This person allowed their counterpart to flip their world completely upside down, presenting lies, stress, anger, and hatred in a fashion to drain my friend from hopeful life.

This is a cycle. I was told that they could never be with someone and give the same qualities they had delivered. They said that their is no point in relationship and love; the thing is, I've said this too. Heartache can be a devastating ordeal, and we see in the dark after it has been blanketed on our souls. In my past, I delivered pain to many, not caring whether their feelings were involved and reckless on emotional care. My once untainted soul, delivering trust and happiness to the person I felt deserved it, only to be manipulated, tossed around and taken for granted. After that I honestly went on a spree of spreading pain, not allowing myself to trust, and giving others a reason not to trust. I spoke to a former girlfriend who told me I completely changed her life after I put her through the things I did. She actually thanked me, but in doing what I did I flipped her perception of love, trust and happiness. She forgave me finally. But tormented soul torments another, I wonder how many people were affected by what I did to her, and what about the others? Not to really point fingers, but I messed others lives because my life was messed with, and I know others who've dealt with similar circumstances, tainting the innocent around them because of their own pain. A cycle of pain, transferring from corrupt to innocent. I won't go further, but there is much to be said.

Truth Hurts, Inconvenient Truth, True Lies, Truth Sucks... Truth

Sitting at the desk while at work, I sit in silence. No one is there to disturb me, except for the annoying flies that tend to do kamikaze shots at my body. It appears to be a beautiful day, slightly chilly and only buzzing outside is caused by the small airplanes from the flight school next door.

This is coming to an end. That's the truth, and that's what came to mind. The truth. Those two words are heavy hitting enough without having to get into circumstantial evidence nor testimony. The two other words that stuck out to me, in which I uttered aloud, the "Inconvenient Truth." Yeah, I know it was the title of a movie, but those two words have a heavy implication. Since when has the truth ever been convenient. For one party it may have been somewhat timely, but not convenient; as for the other? well you know it was a disaster of a revelation.

Imply this in a lot of things; a scandal revealed about a person, a cheating wife, finding out you have a fatal disease. I mean you have been lucky to find out, or blessed rather. But that diagnosis was never convenient, shit finding out the disease was there was not convenient at all. Admitting to a spouse that you were attracted to your same sex; finding out years later that your father was never your real dad. I mean the truth is a powerful thing, not always a good thing and definitely not always a convenient aspect to delve in. Truth is...

R&B Relic

Okay, where did they go?

Have you seen them? I'm talking about the solid, R&B singing, music group. The last of the mohicans remains to be Jagged Edge. (I suppose). And I say them because they remain to possess the fundamental four-man music group essence. I don't know what 112 is up to, but regardless, they're old. My favorite, Boyz II Men. Incredible combination of sounds, portraying melody and harming as if it were strokes on a canvas. They sang great music, capturing more than just love sounds, they created a platform which has yet to be duplicated, and their fan base was international.

Boyz II Men may have been the real last of the mohicans. They learned their lesson from classical groups such as The Temptations, The Four Tops, even New Edition played a role. One thing about these groups that is different from 112, Jagged Edge and ugh Pretty Ricky (rubbish). Even though they possessed a lead singer, other members had great roles on the tracks. Other than just making sure a blend existed.

I wonder what lead to the demise of the group. Times a' changin' (Since that seems to the theme as of late), is the era over? Our generation has been so "Do-me" and self centered that sharing roles and participating in a group effort may be obsolete. Even few rap groups exist like they used to. Is the moment for shared success a dying legend? Maybe it isn't as deep as I think it is...

Too cool for them, to nerdy for others

Today as I'm driving down the road, cruising at a formable speed. I was thinking about groupings, and categories. An image of the Jonas brothers popped in my head, and then it switched to an old album cover from Dj Paul (of Three-6-Mafia). I released a brief chuckle and thought where does Th3rd fit. Rather where would Louis be grouped?

I constructed (in my head) a list of things I enjoy:

Snowboarding
Poetry
Cars
Football
Movies
Music (could write something all on music alone)
-Rock -R&B
-Indie -Hip-Hop
-Jazz -Classical
-Motown hits and various others
Theatre

Within those categories there are usually a general type of people that follow each popular item. And I have yet to see the A7X fan in an American Eagle shirt with Nike's on. Luckily I have friends in almost every category, which makes enjoying them even more enjoyable. But I realized one thing, my ex girlfriend called me a dork and I laughed it off. Yet, I can't help but to think she's right. I am one. The thing is I'm too cool for the dorks. And I'm too dorky for the cool people. I"m in the grey area of the spectrum of black and white. As a matter of fact, I remain in color. While others see things in black and white. I'm the cool dork... the nerdy cool guy... I'm just Th3rd.

The parallels

Today, I decided to go out to eat lunch with Tommy (Boss), not because I forgot to bring food, but I like to sit and talk a while, especially if I'm enduring stress from a feisty car. So, we headed to the towns number one spot, Mickey D's, and I order my usual; which tends to come out within the hour (there's gotta be a laxative involved). 

We sat and began our meal, he slowly salts and vinegars his fries, and I devour half my hamburger before I opened up and mention. "I would love to stay here, but I'd have to make money. Lord knows I don't want to end up in Baltimore, not much going on there, just a cycle between crime and lack of response." He comments, "Oh, sounds like Toronto." Maybe, I thought. I'm not looking for statistics, and Toronto is occupied by a higher number of people, but Baltimore has a lot of crime. Regardless of the facts, what made the conversation interesting is his next statement (and tommy can talk so I will put the basis of the convo). He said, "Right now its a bunch of young punks, generally Black males, who strut and talk a big game and look for subtle reason to shoot you. Thats all they do shoot shoot shoot... and the Blacks are not from a particular region, they are Caribbean, African-Canadians, African-Americans, they're of many origins, but that is the newest thing." 

I shook my head, and agreed that minorities are in the face of crime, but instead of teaching the old-dog (guy) new tricks and countering his statement by the injustices, he continued.

"Nothing has changed though, back in my home when I was growing up it was the same way"

Back home for Tommy is Scotland, and he claimed to have lived in the roughest, most dangerous city in all of U.K., Gauldry. I think that is what I can recount from the conversation. Anyways, he said that if you walked on the wrong side of the street somedays, that would be your day. If you were in the road part of town, or even had the wrong color on. You would be lucky to have a hospital bill. He mentioned that they would kick your ass for fun, and the two main parties were the "Teddy Boys" and the Rockers, they wore scarves (similar to bandanas over here). Instead of the prominent and favorable gun, they carried switch blades, chains and butterfly knives. But just because gunpowder wasn't the dominant conduit to killing doesn't mean you would not die. Tommy told me he used to get his ass kicked all the time.

Over in his country there were soccer teams affiliated with religions, Protestant and Catholic. The question often asked: what team do you favor? Which would explain what religion as well. But, they wore colors and any given time during a game could mean your time to get roughed up, if seated in the wrong area of the stadium.

What I'm getting at is the parallels. Yes right now the Black male is a target in the eyes of media, and society. Carrying baggage that some could not imagine existed. But, this is nothing new, and the human nature to commit acts of violence and malice "just because" is not a new trait either. Scots were the minority on the U.K., and known to be serious fighters, a stereotype too. Of course there are many differences in our history, yet the parallels are the things that explain a lot.

Ode to Fall

So, Fall has returned once again. Its inevitable grasp to introduce cold months back into our lives is a bit disheartening. For some, school begins, returning to the righteous path of continuous studies, essays and exams. Others (in our Northern states) do not bother to acknowledge that Fall is here, rather they concede that Winter is approaching. Rummaging through totes and boxes unearthing apparel to suit the anticipation; discovering scarves, coats and sweaters from seasons ago. I like Fall, her introduction is subtle, and purely an epitome to naturalistic change. Turning leaves, harvests, cool nights and shorter days.

For the past three years her embrace has been sort of a "smiles and cries," if you will. Never have I enjoyed her sweet touch, endured happiness and forgot about time then when she is around. She has brought me enjoyable, unforgettable, unregretful love. Appearing in a myriad of fashions, I am convinced that Fall

is a woman.

And I have fallen for her every year. Summer loves and Spring flings don't usually embrace me as I have seen others. There must be a misalignment in the stars because the cold months are my times for joy and pain. Last years experiences were marked as an all time pleasure high, more son on an interactive level. Yet, her (fall) previous years have led me to an inescapable grasp which I reluctantly entered. 

Me falling for Fall, or rather falling in the cold. Take that as you wish. But, her imminent return now has this soul pondering if  I should be apprehensive toward her. Should fall once again mark the territory to tormenting happiness and satisfying pain? I don't get her business, and I've been without her for sometime now, maybe it'd be better to refuse entry. 

As desiring and beautiful as I find her, maybe the best result for Fall is another "F" word. 

Friendship

Yet, I can't resist temptation nor can I see myself escaping to the hills as she enters, once again. 

    Unannounced yet expected. She is beauty defined and poetry personified. 

A rose, delicate and alluring, only once tightly grasped the pain inflicted reminds you to let go.

Ohhh Fall, welcome back.

Race matters... still

Okay, I was going to post a different note this evening, one dealing with change. But something caught my attention, and therefore I'd just bring it to the light. I'd prefer this one to be posted when I had my site built, but oh well, maybe I will reintroduce the topic.

As I'm sitting here watching the rivalry game between the Cowboys and Eagles. As interesting of game as it is I can't help but to drift away. The motivation for this reflection derived from my attempt to converse with a fellow friend (ex) of mine. Asking about how her first day of employment was working with the children, and the general response received, as anticipated, brought up a point that I didn't care to discuss with her, i'd rather write on it. She mentioned how it was her first encounter with working with white children, innocent enough. The response I would have taken from a white woman saying it was her first time with black children would have probably been just as casual. Maybe, my eyebrow may have raised a bit. But nonetheless, RAcE MatTeRs! yes race matters. 

Although I've been isolated in the "Great White North" it is not an understatement for the area I've been living in. Generally everyone has been exceptionally receptive, and unnoticeably comfortable for an out-of-town black male inhabiting in this small town. Obviously I'm not from around here, but I seldom felt the center of attention nor the topic of discussion.

So, race, yeah. You think we've gotten past it. No we haven't, but will we ever? I think hell no, why would we have the audacity to overlook race at any point. Even if its not an issue it will still be talked about. As innocent of a comment as "you're the coolest white girl I know" or "he's this black guy." That means it matters, even if it is not an offensive discussion. 

I'm reading this book, which I've recommended to several people, (doubt they've considered it past our conversation). But, this character brings up race everyone once and a while, and his friend always asks, why do you always bring up race? Why can't you get past race? In a sense he states that race has not passed him, and as long as it remains evident that his race matters then he won't stop talking about it. I'm not saying that is right, but that seems to be the case and this book was published over half a century ago. 

It's unfortunate that the differences in pigmentation can retain judgement about one's personality and affiliation. But it happens, and it will still happen, shit even in peaceful old Canada I have met prejudice Canadian's some sporting Confederate flags (Some I believe had no clue what it truly represented) but I know one guy knew what his nazi flag represented. As I see them I don't shun or refute; I still open up, and try to embrace, because it's the anger and violence that a symbol can bring out that perpetuates its use.

So, where is this going,...It can't be far because these are thoughts not actions. Race matters, and now that I've grown older and lived on my own (really on my own) I have been able to see clearly what is embedded in us as humans, and even within our own races prejudice and hate exists. 


For the most part, our generation and future ones are more acceptable to differences... And I don't hold race as a key element in my days. Just able to see how it will not subside for a while, especially as long as there is still first Black this and that...

Times are changing

Change

and 

Choice (the choice to change).

So, this has been in my head since I heard the quote yesterday. "I can change; no really, I'm sorry, I can work on this and I will change Turk." This coming from the newest movie "Righteous Kill," which was pretty decent, but it reminded me of that show Dexter. Nonetheless I couldn't abstain from viewing another Pacino and DeNiro flick, could you??

Change & Choice. Do you think we as a human can change for someone? I know it's in our ability to transform, ultimately changing, because of a situation, observation or phenomenon. Such as, discovering you have lung cancer, or your closest friend drinking and driving, so you choose to refrain from alcohol intake. Or catching some sort of virus and sex looses its sexy appeal. Those transformations usually are situational ones, but I'm not really referring to changing for those reasons. I'm more interested in our capability to change behaviorally, for someone (or ourselves). I know its possible.. I know. You can lose up to 300 pounds, yeah cause your more prone to die. You can stop smoking, because your breath smells and you and there is a dark spot on your x-ray. BUT,...

What about the guy who cheats, and I mean consistently can't stop cheating? The woman he finds is crazy about him and he is mutual with the emotion. DO you think SHE can bring about the change? I guess it remains in our menatility to overcome certain things. The woman in the move claimed she could change; she was very harsh, cold, and apathetic toward the man she had been sleeping with. The next day she apologized and said she could change. I think it takes time and time plus motivation to do something like that. She couldn't just be nice the next time they had sex, she wouldn't want to, if she did, she'd be faking it. So change, can we choose to change. If you were someone who had low self esteem and did not think confidently, besides plastic surgery or a life changing event, could you administer change upon yourself? I need an example on that, besides outer looks being the means to their change. This blog could go forever on what I have to say... but I just want to know the nature in men to change, and by men i mean humans. 

It's easy to change habits as a child, we're growing, but hitting twenty.three - twenty.four it takes a lot to change. 

I wonder if I can change some things about myself? I wonder if you could change me?

Want to share?

So, today was my landlady's birthday dinner, so I decided to join the "bear lady's" meal for the evening. Very glad I was not forced to cook this evening, because I really didn't feel like it. Let's jump into it.

A conversation generated about music downloading, and I brought up the situation in which I was nearly kicked out of school because of illegal file sharing. What Canadians are pleasantly satisfied with at the moment, but seemingly getting anxious over because of it's possible demise, is the fact that it's legal to download music. Not just your itunes and napster feeds where you pay .99 per song. I'm talking about you ares, limewire, and other free peer to peer programs that ruffle the feathers of recording artist all over. 

Do you want to know why it's free? Well, about ten years ago the recrod labels up here went to the government and demanded to receive money for the loss of sales since downloading became the hottest thing to do. Unequivocally the Canadian government went along with the request and set up this scheme. Not so much a scheme as it is a perceptive idea on the market. One the U.S. would fail to use, 1) because the Canadian's did it first, and 2) it just makes too much sense. ((This November will be a true test to my faith in government, if another Gore situations occurs... I will part farther than Canada!))

Instead of giving the record labels X amount of dollars, they give a percentage of sold blank cd's. Since they are primarily used to play burned songs, why not give money off them back. Now of course there are mp3 players, and you can't win every war, but I think that was a smart move. Good job Canucks... 

Unfortunately, like I said before, its demise could be imminent. The U.S. (because we're bullies like that) handed over a bill to the Canadian government and said "apply this." This would enforce stricter rules, no free downloading, basically be on the U.S's level. The results have not played out yet, because there is an election drawing soon.

Fear the turtle

So, not too long ago I was at work (as usual) and decided to go out for lunch. Unfortunately, the selection process is not too broad, so McDonald's it was. This wonderful summer day could not have been any more beautiful. As my Scottish co-worker and I hop in his Yaris and head to our delectable dining venture, something was different this day. We traveled down the main road where heavy traffic (for this town) was usual. While we are rapidly pacing down the road I notice something on the sidewalk. I beg Tommy to turn around; so he bombs down the street, threads his way through traffic and returns back up the road. Now there is a bridge with a nice size river and dam that this two lane road occupies, not much passing room. Regardless of the other patrons, I decide to hop of the car, dodge over to the opposite side of the street and before me is:

a massive turtle! I couldn't say "helpless" nor "poor."

But his decision to attempt to cross the road was not going to be the brightest idea, especially at this time of day. He, she...it patiently waited by the curb as twenty-two wheeled semi's drove by, bicyclist, and plenty of other four wheeled vehicles.

To no avail, I grasped the sides of it's shell, lifted and attempted to haul this big animal to the other side. Before I was three feet in the street this turtle's 3/4 inch class dug into my hand, and had enough strength to pry my hands right off

*Drop*...so now his ass is laying in the middle of the first lane. ANd instead of meekly placing its head in the shell, (like he did at first). Now emerges this four inch head, that is about the side of a small apple. Snapping at me viciously with malice and contempt. I couldn't even get behind the damn thing, it squared in front of my body with every move, snapping and hissing. Well, I can't just leave his ungrateful ass in the road... or could I. I grab a branch, about four feet long, and he snapped through the two and a half in diameter branch as if it were a toothpick. ((I was told I was lucky, because usually they get their way, and my hand would have been three fingers less that day, would have made writing interesting))... anyways I got it, back on his original side of the road, and used momentum from his final chop through the branch to hurl it down the bank and into the brush... whew... so much for helping.

Now, I know this was a bit long, but feel me out. Some people innately want to be there for others... even if they have no business to. Offering shoulders, hands and often money to help in the oddest of situations. The turtle in the road signifies a huge percentage of people who don't appreciate the helping hand, who can't see that an angel is there to benefit their situation. Rather they shut doors, refute and condemn any outsider; our animalistic behavior to assistance, to bite the hand that feeds us. The greatest thing about this, if I saw another turtle on the sidewalk, I'd help it too, appreciative or not, a life was changed, helped and possibly saved. Don't be afraid of another's care and concern, and don't be afraid to talk to a stranger, it they could change your life as much as you could impact theirs.

Music for your life

So it's only been a few hours and I've already picked this back up. I'm having trouble finding a word to fit in a sentence for this novel, so to you I turn. Let me tell you how much I love instrumentals from soundtracks...they evoke emotion more than any lyrics I've heard, and I got Celine, Boyz II Men, Four Tops, Luther, I got some noteworthy singers. But the scores, they put the words in the music, what you hear is what you feel. You feel me? I mean I can list some good movies to check out, just so you can listen... The Illusionist, Howl's Moving Castle, Dan in Real Life, Love Actually, 25th Hour, Elizabethtown, Reign Over Me, Crash... okay. So if you want to feel something from music and get a good flick...check those out. And no paramount hasn't hired me, I'm not promoting for anyone except for a different look on life. 

Don't you wish you could wake up to your own soundtrack? Depending on the mood you conjure in the morning, you could have strings and woodwinds, or guitars and heavy drums. I would have a different song everyday, and the same song while I slept. Which song? hah, there's no revealing that. Think though, not about the music that YOU would want to be playing as you walked buy, sat for an interview, cried ferocious, waited for AAA or passionately pleasured yourself to, What song would FIND you? Is your mind expanded enough to get past your regular listen to actually have Phillip Glass, Danny Elfman or Craig Armstong make a score for your mood? Honestly, would you evene have time to hear the music? Life tends to move so fast you'd probably put it on mute because it's distracting. Shit, what would your love theme be?

The induction

So I tried this like 10 minutes ago, and well safari closed on me and my original message was destroyed. What now? I will move on to whatever else is in my head. This is my intro to blogging, and well I'd say its the "pilot series" to see what you all think and if I can keep interest in my somewhat disarray of a mind. 

What to look for? Poetic verses every now and then, some excerpts from my novel -(in progress) and oh random thoughts from yours truly. Th3rd!
I will pry between observation and complaint and hopefully give you tasteful incite to this quirky Gemini mind.

Thoughts are swelling my fingers and I linger at the brink of madness and serenity, I give you the world of Th3rd, better observed upspoken and unheard:

Maybe if this site had crashed on some other person they would have said "fuck it" and closed shop, but I wanted to really get this done. So this rewrite is totally different than what I said earlier: 

I love an interesting mind. I think I have moved passed the whole obsession with beautiful eyes, and curves...and now its the sassiness and wittiness of a mind. It doesnt even have to be about intelligent comments or facts I do not know , nor care about. But a mind that sees different into a plain situation or steps out the box further than just outside. This can occur without being a so called poet, just a person who sees orange in a field of blue and has the mind to tell you why. A friend stated that my wife is going to be the baddest thing on two feet, but I can clearly see that looks are going to be the minimum qualification, mental stimulation will be the circumstantial information. 

One thing that interest me; what if... we are lessing interesting than we make out to be. I myself believe my diverse collection of music, my appreciation for the arts, love and talent in cars and poetry skills make me somewhat interesting. Yet, a person can appeal and contend that 1 of 3 share the same interest. How boring. You know what i'd find interesting though? Having a deaf girlfriend, I wouldn't mind learning another language, shit Love is a different language of its own. Then interesting things would occur daily, and although silence would dominate the household, our body language would speak in volumes. This came to mind from an old friend's saying: "Silence allows us to appreciate the words we speak" -Chineka. Think about that.