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Believe In The Beat

November 1, 2013

One of the hardest things for me is knowing and feeling how precious every second of life is, and hearing people talking over it. And how do they talk over it? When I have to take the hit of indifference. One time at a winery a half-drunk winery supervisor yelled at me. I had to contain myself. I needed the money. But I thought I endured all that pain of testicular cancer and chemo to resurface and have to listen to this bullshit, someone verbally tagging me with their limited emotional vocabulary.  And I take the hit, knowing there is something beyond this, and that their life is a Stop sign that I leaving behind in my rearview mirror–allk they can do is stop people from coming through, momentarily, but they can’t stop me from leaving. And I keep going on partially numbed feet, or digging into thew wave to catch the peak of a wave, or go through some motions to keep the cash coming through, and realize I’m one year from 60 and what future do I have after always staying true to writing and performing, then before my dreaming life can evaporate, I hear the beat, the uplifting beat of my heart that keeps me on the dance floor looking up at the disco ball of the sun and the light show of every passing second and laugh with some tears streaking down my face, warm one of wonder and gratitude. I’m dancing in the wilderness. and the darkness is closing out not in.

They say this too shall pass,

Fuck them.

I’m not passing.

 

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