Fred and Bridgette had been dating for a few months, things were getting serious and the next level conversations were starting to happen. The type of conversations where someone is confessing their dark demons. The skeletons in the closet are brought out for show and tell in relationship hour. They had been doing the deep talking for days and even dissusions of moving in together was sounding like a real possibility.
Bridgette was a sweet maverick and relationships were always on the back burner. Although Fred offered a certain kind of reality for her, his world was concrete and she felt stable being herself. I guess everyone can get comfortable being in their own mental universe. Community and connections to other creative people is what Fred thrived on. He just was openly appreciative toward the world. Bridgette was infatuated with his personality, him being so open about his enjoyment on earth was good energy for her. As big as it is, one small person can leave a gigantic mark.
Fred was taking Bridgette home and the two sat in front of the house looking at the neighborhood. It was moments away from it being night time. He was hesitatant to bring up the topic of moving in together this night because he had been spending all his time day dreaming about the house they share. He did not want to seem eager.
I don know if you got the memo but men are excellent chefs. Not all because we’re a rare breed but it just so happens that I am a brilliant artist when it comes to the kitchenry arts, just so you know.
I will note that in my journal for today’s entry. Fred can work a stove and read a ramen noodles bag.
Hey, hey, that’s not all I can prepare for you my dear. I don’t have any menus on hand but they have this thing called the Internet. Yeah and it like has every recipie known to man. So pretty much anything you want, I can make you, just say the word and I’m in that kitchen.
What kitchen exactly?
The kitchen that we share because we live togethere.
I know that sounds amazing and I have requests but there a few things that we have not covered. Things that might not want you to share a kitchen with me. As much as I am feeling you as a person, there is just some things you would not comprehend.
That’s very broad and how do you know that about me. I would hope you could trust me enough to be open to what you need to share. I’m for real about us being one. I want that Bob Marley love, that we’ll share the same room stuff.
If that’s how you feel then I have to tell you because you need to know this if I am that person you really want to be with.
You are, please tell me what’s on your heart tonight.
Ok, but if you don’t want this anymore then I’ll understand…
I was taken from home many years ago.
Aliens abducted me and they will still visit me from time to time. I know it sounds hard to believe but I was put on a committee to serve the human race.
I am forever connected to these individuals and will always be dealing with changes and collapses in the universe. Earth is my home but my life is tied to them.
Born to take on sin
Judgment is not constructive
Trying to be better.
Feeling is more than saying
Earn what you deserve.
Sunday birds serenade me
Love between lyrics.
Songs we sing will cure
Sounds for the old road to town
Safe when we get home.
We are the facilitators of our own creative evolution.
I had set myself a mission at the beginning of the year, that was to be actually producing more content for the blog. Again keeping track of the number of posts does help me stay active, setting myself a goal amount for the month. It seems to be working, April is just around the coner and I’m happy with what I have made in the short three months.
A fourth of the year is complete and things are cooking in the kitchen of life for me. All the ingredients needed are already in the cubbards of my soul. I guess sometimes I can lose sight of that inner artistic energy. Expressing that outlet and being proud to have my craft displayed for anyone to see.
Be proud of where you come from and don’t be afraid to understand new methods. Learning day to day and not letting myself hold myself back is key.
Does money make me the right kind of happy?
I always get reminded of the story of the corduroy jacket. Eddie Vedder the lead singer of the band Pearl Jam had bought this corduroy jacket cheap at a thrift store before he got famous and experienced success. A few years later Eddie see’s another similar corduroy jacket being sold for hundreds of dollars at some big store.
Something so one-of-a-kind can also be so mass produced. The dollar amount has no value when it comes to the cost of your own artistic integrity. I know how money helps me but will it buy me anything I truly need for my soul?