Intelligenti Pauca

I am feeling positive for the future (for once), and I’m ready to embrace the {in}sanity; creativity; depth of my character and mind. It feels as if I just boarded a plane – but I don’t know where it’s headed; though, I don’t have the jet-fueled anxiety that normally entails. I am ready to go somewhere – anywhere – with my life . . . except, of course, the gutters of drug binges. Having been stuck in the death- grip of drama, bad choices, and bitter pessimism. . . I feel smart AND happy . . . something I thought impossible two years ago. It is, however, a general rule that HAPPINESS and INTELLIGENCE don’t go hand in hand, but rather exist in two separate galaxies – on planes, or plateaus unknown to the other. Where this plane my take me, God himself couldn’t tell you. I’ve a many noble and rudder that stated the gold still lies in the Cascades – and who am I am to deny that my heart’s not trapped like gas underneath that cloudy sky. It is where you feel that you belong, that you truly, truly belong . . . until you start shooting ten bags a day and you change your name to Tommy. As I was saying, this plane has no set destination, but will reach the heavens with enough determination. They, whom I haven’t a right idea whom “they” are yet, will most likely never know my name until I’m dead, and that’s at best – as my spirits still soar to new heights unaffected like a knight in shining, shimmering armor. I’ll be great; great at anything, and everything that I put my mind to. I’ll catch the stars in a turquoise and skip to town; I’ll paint books with my insides. I’ll live to see the day my book becomes a best-seller, and the people by happenchance I’ve stumbled upon and changed along this taxing path tap their buddy, or mother, or sister and say with a jovial grin, “I know that guy.” And I smiled to the grave.

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