venti_mistake

You know, I did my set hoping to confirm something. I was expecting, I don't know, laughter, disapproval, even harsh commoents telling me I'm ugly. I never expected what I got instead. I am truly grateful. But that set isn't me. It's me trying again. It's me posing, hoping for approval. But why should I care? I like me. If I met me I think I'd become friends with me because I'm a pretty chill dude. I've never been vain but that set was a vain move. Even if I am ugly, what the fuck?! I'm still me and I'll always have my friends. So for those who gave me kudos on my set, thank you so very much. But if you think that version of me is cool, come check out the real thing. I guarantee you'll leave with a smile, or at least a weirded out smirk. I made a girl cry the other night. She was having such a shitty night. I drew her on a bar napkin. She smiled and cried and kissed me. I haven't felt that good in a while. All I had to do to make her day better was to give her a reflection of how beautiful she was. I guess that's what you do for me Rachel. I hear in you and see in you what is beautiful about me and I see your beauty at the same time. Try as you might to deny it you are one amazing individual and I love you more and more everytime I get a glimmpse of another facet of what it is that makes you you.



I heard a street musician play this in front of a bar on fifth in downtown SD. I swear I almost wept right then and there at the beauty of it. I had no money. All I could offer was a smile. Life can suck that way. I had to smirk when I realized it was a George Michael song.
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These are the days of the open hand
They will not be the last
Look around now
These are the days of the beggars and the choosers
This is the year of the hungry man
Whose place is in the past
Hand in hand with ignorance
And legitimate excuses
The rich declare themselves poor
And most of us are not sure
If we have too much
But we?ll take our chances
Because God's stopped keeping score
I guess somewhere along the way
He must have let us all out to play
Turned his back and all Gods children
Crept out the back door
And its hard to love, there's so much to hate
Hanging on to hope
When there is no hope to speak of
And the wounded skies above say it's much, much too late
Well maybe we should all be praying for time
These are the days of the empty hand
Oh you hold on to what you can
And charity is a coat you wear twice a year
This is the year of the guilty man
Your television takes a stand
And you find that what was over there is over here
So you scream from behind your door
Say what's mine is mine and not yours
I may have too much but I?ll take my chances
Because God's stopped keeping score
And you cling to the things they sold you
Did you cover your eyes when they told you
That he can't come back
Because he has no children to come back for
Its hard to love there's so much to hate
Hanging on to hope when there is no hope to speak of
And the wounded skies above say its much too late
So maybe we should all be praying for time