Self-Worth

I once believed there was someone for everyone. I thought love was a very real thing and could be found if you stayed the course and refused to give up. Keep your heart open, they told me, and love will find its way in.

The pain was unbearable. Love disappointed me too many times. As I tried to hold my head high, the tears poured out of my eyes. Just then Love smacked me across my proud face and she said “What's the big idea?” to which I replied, “I’m looking for love. The kind that's caring and supportive and inspiring.” And Love laughed at me, “You don’t get it. You’re all you’ve got. You are enough.”

I didn’t listen to her and followed my heart again. I knew this next one, if lost, was going to hurt most of all. This one was my first love. My high school sweetheart! We reunited after 15 some odd years. The way it felt in our moments of true passion.. Well, I thought I was set. I could not imagine life without him, ever. We had wasted too much precious time apart already. I was certain he would be my last.

Now, I stand before Love once more. She is compassionate this time. She tends to my wounds, wipes my tears, and speaks in soothing tones.. “It’s you, it’s always been you. Don’t you see?”

“See what?” I cry. “That I’m all alone again? That everywhere I look, there are couples cohabitating, getting married, having babies? That I’ve waited my entire life to love and be loved in return and it has never worked out for me? EVER???”

Love takes a deep breath, clears her throat, and says gently, “Your idea of what love is cannot be made real. You have too much to do in this life, and until you find that within yourself that needs no other, you will not be complete, you will not feel satisfaction. You need to be enough for yourself in order to find happiness”

“But I have done the work! I’ve spent years and years alone and enjoy the company I keep! I like who I am! But my relationships still continue to fail. What am I doing wrong?”

Love sighs, “My darling, if you were to never find this ‘other half’, if you were never to have the beautiful wedding you’ve always imagined, if your children were merely to pass as discarded eggs, would you still be the same you that you’ve always been?”

“What?” I cry. “No! Never!!”

Love is patient. She says softly, “Would you still strive to be a great woman warrior? Would you continue to write and sing and celebrate your life? Would you still dance with abandon and laugh loudly and throw your hands in the air, letting the wind remind your skin and hair that you’re still very much alive? Can you still count on yourself to defy pain others may try to inflict upon you? Will you remain true to the virtues that steer you close to grace?

"You, my darling girl, have a blessed life. And it’s all yours. To share, to smirk at the odds, to tackle the challenges head on with that broad smile of yours. You have always fought for your essence and have made some incredible friends who miss you when your focus gets diluted and an incredible family that hates to see your emotions get strained. Love is not about struggle. Love is enlightening and fun. It’s possibility and exploration and full of childlike surprise. It’s not damage and regret and sorrow. It’s not guilt ridden and it certainly doesn’t want to see you cry. It’s warm and it embraces promise with both arms. Not because it must do so, but because it wants to.”

* * *

When I look back on how things could have gone differently, how it feels to have lost the love of my life, my heart aches immeasurably. But I figure this: As much as it hurts to have failed, I know life has something in store for all of us. We just have to hang on when things seem most difficult. Sure, romantic love can be so fulfilling. But defining your self worth is more important than staying the course with someone who is depleting your life force. Remember to hold tight to what feels most right so that you may continue to enjoy the moments of your life. Expand your capacity for wonder. Stand up and defend your dreams. No one can take you away from yourself, unless you let them. Don’t let them.

The Complaint Department is Closed

Several years ago, I made a New Year’s resolution to stop complaining. In all the years I bothered to come up with one (it always seems so important to make one, so some years I simply refused the added stress of finding a good one) that year I had nailed it. I was tired of hearing my own voice bitch about things I couldn’t control, and fed up with the excuses for the things I could do but weren’t doing. And really, folks, who likes a complainer?

After an exceedingly difficult year, I’d like to revisit this resolution of years past, and look hard at what complaining really means. Sure, a general unhappiness with the way things turn out tend to manifest into malaise. Despair can make the smallest disappointment turn into a huge ordeal. But what we choose to do with ourselves daily is our responsibility, so really we have ourselves to blame. To complain in front of others gives our bad or misguided choices the unfortunate opportunity to negatively effect those around us.

I can think of no occasion where complaining to others is ever truly effective. Communicating an idea of what you would like to see happen in your environment is not complaining (if you have roommates, letting them know to clean up after themselves in a constructive way, for example). But laundry listing the things that continue to ail you, whether it’s work or health related, tends to become a real burden on others. I myself am guilty of this in spades, especially this past year. I have to shut my mouth sometimes just so I won’t say something unnecessary or unhelpful.

It’s not clear when I lost sight of my goals and how to achieve them. All I do know is, they are inside me still, and beg to be given the chance to flourish if I would just stop scaring them off by pushing them further down with all the white noise. If something needs to be changed, change it. If there’s something in your day to day that isn’t working for you, take the steps to fix it. No one is in charge of the adult you, ever. There’s real freedom found in organization and follow through. Give yourself another chance.

Enough Rough Stuff

I remember a time

when I wasn't so blind.

Where fear had no space in the house that is mine.

It wasn't just me that was thriving, we were all diving.

With the means to make it all ours without hurry or worry.

We could think and we could do and we did.


Then some large hammer came down

and knocked us around.

I'm still reeling from the beating

to our collective feeding

of our needing to reach goals of

American Dreaming.


I want to see us rise

above this unsupervised demise

To get back to that state

of simple debate

As to what color bed spread

would go best with the head

of hair of a new love affair

blooming with ideas for more.


It's been too long since many have felt free

of financial debris.

We must remember who are

So we can keep reaching far.

Grab hold of what's dear

and steer ourselves clear.

Make way for the purples and pinks of the day.



It's the doubt that this brought

that subsequently taught we should accept

the worst as our new turf.

Enough of this piss.

We're better than this.

Bring forward the life that we ordered.

Attitude Adjustment

As hard as we think our lives are, there is always someone who has it harder. We know this. But every once in a while, we are handed that glorious reminder. And it’s not easy to face someone else's hardship. Perspective is a bitch. If we have a conscience, if we have a beating heart, we can’t help but put ourselves in their position. Imagine what it would be like to be them. One thing I have learned over the years, we’ve heard it said time and again, is that it’s all about attitude. Well, I got a dose of that tonight. And it was a gorgeous dose.

My friends and I noticed her from a mile off. She radiated. Her shocking, short, blond hair and smile was reminiscent of Marilyn Monroe. Lovely to behold. She was witty and fearless. She approached us and was engaging in a delightful way.

A dancer at Jumbo’s Clown Room – the more interesting a place to see girls dance for dollars in LA because, as she put it, when someone from her past frowned upon her stripping, replied “You had better be talking about reupholstery, because you don’t know Jumbo’s”. That’s why we go there. You see, they don’t have to take it all off. The place draws girls with aspirations to be somebody, to pursue their acting/modeling/music careers without having to feel like they are compromising too much. These girls are gorgeous and they have style – some of them real bona fide dancers.

This one, a superstar, introduced herself as Millions. After further investigating, her real name came out. Malaika, pronounced Ma-like-a. We told her the nickname Millions should come after, a stage name worthy of Vegas. Me like a Millions? She cracked us up with her energy. A real doll of a woman with energy and spontaneity that rivaled anyone I have met in my years of big city living, both NYC and LA.

Her show was light, and fun. She was playful and sexy and very entertaining. But mostly it was her dynamic energy with the crowd. Every girl there performed in her shadow. Off stage, she was the kind of likable that her infectious smile granted: you just wanted more of her. You saw that beautiful, kind face giving itself to children, teaching them the ways of the word with a real inner beauty and confidence. She invited us to a party she’s throwing in the near future – the image on the flyer a bit she did as a performance artist that involved a life-size image of her in a long red dress, leg’s splayed. Participants were invited to poke their head thru a hole cut out between her legs for a photo op of Malaika Millions giving birth to you. Hilarious.

I stepped outside with her, upon her request, away from the noise and crowd. She guided me towards a stunning motorcycle – hers. Magenta body, chrome fixtures, light blue/green suede seat. I have never seen such a cute, sexy bike before. Perfect for this one-of-a-kind. She smoked a long, brown cigarette and told me of her struggle to afford the necessary parts to stop it from leaking. Then said she’s had some surprise health issues and times were very challenging for her. What health issues? I asked, and you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I said. She mentioned a disease that I can’t spell. The fluid that is released into your uterus that holds the baby in place was apparently leaking into her body, scarring neighboring organs and causing all kinds of problems with her immune system. They had to take out her uterus and cervix. It did not fix the problem, her health challenged.

She told me of a party she threw after they performed her hysterectomy. She had a piñata made in the shape of a uterus and filled it with all kinds of fun things, she said. Condoms and lube and farm animals. I chuckled, in spite of what she was telling me. Celebrating her incredible ability to turn something tragic into something remarkable. She handed out hockey sticks to her friends and encouraged them to “Kill it!” It was her “Happy Birthday to Uterus” party. I could not hide my admiration of such bravery. I hadn’t imagined it possible, as a woman who wants children with all her might. And here it was, from the source. She was and is a true beauty. There was no pity. There was no remorse. Only a desire to live and be in her moment of truth, shining so brightly. This beautiful woman wants to live. And not be sick and suffering.

There is so much of my life at present that I would change on a dime if I had the chance. My current career and financial woes, shared by so many, cause undue stress constantly. The uncertainty is so tough, for all of us. But if we could muster one ounce of this angel’s attitude about what life has in store for us, if we could regain and retain that kind of refreshing perspective on what’s really important in life – our very character – we would all be a lot less afraid. And a lot more willing to share our health. What I mean to say is – she did not seem unhealthy to me. Not for one moment. She was the light and I was the moth tonight. I simply adored her. Because to me, she was worth my time. She taught that valuable lesson. That the human spirit cannot be broken. It can stay on top of real grief and flourish. It can offer delight and whimsy and promise for more of what is good and right with the world. That’s what she offered me tonight. And for that, I am grateful. We need to all be more grateful for what we have, because we have a lot. And we always need reminding. Thank you, Malaika. Wow.

A Sign of the Times

I am extremely grateful to all of you who reached out and wished me a personalized message on facebook this year, and the few who called. Thank you for taking the time out to touch me ever so slightly in such a kind manner, especially on a day like one’s birthday. Reading messages next to a collection of thumbnail pictures of the amazing people in my life, however, caused a mixed reaction. One of nostalgia and deep missing. Because there was no party. There was no celebration. No whooping it up and “letting it roar.” My big day was quiet and private, spent with my boyfriend who did his best to care for his Leo Warrior.

As I walked down the street, arm in arm with him, I reflected on this newfound maturity. In years past, I would have been throwing my fists to the air and crying at the injustice. It’s my birthday! Why aren’t I having more fun? Where’s the party, the presents, WHERE’S THE LOVE? I sigh as I write these words, because I feel the adult in me settle in. It will never be as you’d like. People will surprise you as well as disappoint you and to find a healthy balance takes real pressure off of the moment. Let things unfold - a tough lesson for me, who tried to force outcomes constantly, calling it “manifestation”. This year showed me I am not always in charge, so leave it alone. Pick your battles and be at peace with those you have no control over.

If I could paint the picture of my birthday differently, I would have still spent the lovely day with my man. But instead of going to bed at 9:30 (what?) it would have ended with every last one of you in a big room laughing and dancing our butts off!

With Love.

Sucking Lemons

I had a shit day to begin with, filled with indecision and so much uncertainty. How much can a body take? When the answers don't present themselves, and you try to force the outcome (!), waiting for any result can be painful. And the stress? I don’t know a single person who is not stressed right now...

So... My day was sucking lemons.. Could not configure a way out. Showed up at a children's theatre event to photograph my friend's children, only to walk aimlessly looking for something I couldn't find, under the brutal sun carrying a costume and camera... I was hot and frustrated. My real life wasn't presenting any softer landing pad to questions that had no answers. We operate in the now and need things answered immediately so we can act accordingly and appropriately. When you don’t have direction, it’s like being put on hold. I needed to take my finger of the pause button and I couldn't find the remote.

So, I decided to take the old adage by the balls. I’m ashamed to admit this, but I have a lemon tree at the foot of my property. For nearly 6 years, I have not visited that tree, to appreciate it’s offerings, because of where it’s positioned. It's in a precarious spot and extremely difficult to get to. The slope leading down to it would surely make one lose their footing. It’s simply too steep.

But then I got the idea to approach it from the other side, requiring me to scale the wall. I carried a ladder from the house and made my way through rain forest sized Birds of Paradise, used a street sign to pull my body up this wall... only to face an enormous Agave plant.

If you were to impale yourself on one of it’s leaves, you would surely do some damage to a vital organ. I moved slowly and deliberately through the spiked leaves, only to find myself in a swarm of bees! I was frozen, straddling this enormous branch covered in sharp, pointy needles, and my bare legs were surrounded by bees in every direction. And I was still too far to reach the lemons! I waited patiently for a bee to move so I could occupy his space without stepping on him, and pushed forward until finally, I was standing in front of this pretty little lemon tree. I greeted it politely and began filling my bag. The smile on my face resembled a kid on Christmas morning. The tree and the bees both seemed to vibrate around me, creating this pleasant hum. I felt safe and cared for.

Returning to kitchen, I juiced those babies and poured myself a tall glass of lemonade. And then, I proceeded to go out into the world and get a job. A good job, working with cool people. My day turned around just like that. Because I did something different.

Maintaining Essence

I'm not sure what true love means, but I believe in truly loving someone. Without remorse or obligation. Or pain or regret. A future that's filled with promise and hope. Not unnecessary suffering or guilt. Where two people respect each other and grow together. And challenge the other to excel in what they love most. To encourage each other to be their ideal self. To try new things and be a part of the human condition, not separate from it. To give back more than what we have been given. Embracing difficulty with a cool attitude and a steady gaze. Rid yourself of things in your life that don’t serve your well being and happiness.

There is so much ahead. I've learned to maintain my essence through so much hardship. I wear my battle scars with honor. Those near impossible circumstances have not taken an ounce of my core, but have allowed me to find new ways to strengthen it. I stand with gratitude and real pride. I am a woman warrior who has learned if we don’t overcome our conflicts, and free ourselves from the boundaries these conflicts create, we are merely repeating the struggle.

Your environment should be fueled by high expectation of self coupled with hard work and responsibility for your own actions and for your feelings. When we cultivate a higher sense of self worth, based on the standards we set for ourselves, there’s a greater sense of being part of humanity that inspires one to give back on a larger scale. The old adage goes something like – it’s not how long we are here but what we did while we were here that matters. A warrior’s duty is to guard passions and desires, that they may find a way to be channeled creatively towards a higher purpose. I strive for grace and selflessness every day. And the courage to defend my right to seek truth in everything.

Steel Your Spine

I had the extreme good fortune of hearing our vice president Joe Biden speak last night at a gathering for Senator Barbara Boxer. While describing the Senator’s character to us, he reminded me of what I’ve known for a long time. In times of real struggle and turmoil, only then can great change occur. Change cannot happen if you sit stagnant. What he admires most about her, he said, is her gut. Gut guides the heart. Together they work with the mind to make intelligent decisions. I realized then how complicated I had let my life become. I stood there, wiping the tears from eyes. Steel your spine, he said. We can get through this. And I know he’s right.

He told us when he was a young boy, his father had to make that difficult climb up the stairs to inform Joe that he had lost his job. And that Joe would have to live with his grandmother while his father found work in the neighboring town. He relayed the difficulty his father faced in having to ask such a favor of his own mother. There are so many who have sacrificed so much. Those fighting and dying in a current war, those who have lost their homes, others struggling for their right to legally call themselves Americans. The perspective is always sobering.

I wiped another tear from my eye and that’s when I heard it - the call of a female hawk. She came out of nowhere and flew above our heads. Her white and black patterned chest stood out against the clear, blue sky. A second later, the red- tailed male soared after her. His wings were broad, eyes piercing into mine as I stared, stunned. To have not one, but two hawks fly so close to you.. and chase each other playfully! In that magical moment, I missed my beautiful man. And the life we are to have together if we keep focused on what’s important. We both have lived full lives already. Soon, it would be time to build a family of our own. I raised my head and felt capable of taking better care.

Overcome

Recently, I spent time in New York for an important national holiday. I found myself enveloped in the good company of old friends who understand what the time and distant apart means to each and every one of us. The volume in the room gave it away. We were happy to be together and grateful for the freedom we all felt. There was so much delicious food and wine. One girl even made a fresh wild berry pie that had to be the best I’d ever had in my life. There was so much sharing and laughter, I was reminded how much I truly enjoy the adventure my life is.

There’s been so much to overcome this year. It’s difficult to stay positive all the time. Each of us, as individuals, must figure out our own paths. But we must also recognize that there are others right beside us on the same journey. With enough trust, those nearest and dearest to us can show us how to make it work! I’ve resisted being told what to do my entire life. When I have reached out to others, I have allowed myself to absorb their good intentions and receive their smart advice. We are here to share with one another more than anything else. We don’t have to live alone. Because the only thing that matters is how we connect with each other. It’s vital to our happiness, our health, and the survival of the human race on this planet.

I never used to think life was all that hard, until it neared impossible. I was always able to see beyond the pain of regret and loss, and feel strength in the knowing that I can overcome anything. I thought that’s why I’m special. But that’s what makes all of us special. So today, and each day, I will start to make more of a concerted effort with those around me. To be kind. To listen. And to give back whenever there is something to give. I want to take part in the shift that must occur for us all to get back to a place of love and resourcefulness. It feels better than anything else I can think of.

RIDE FREE

I don’t lie. I don’t steal. I’m not a cheat, I wasn’t raised that way. I like to play tough, but really I'm sensitive and vulnerable.. and I'm tired of suffering FOOLS.

In fact, I was raised to give it like you get it. And I got it GOOD. I spent years being generous because I was blessed with a smart brain (and I protected it) that configured a very clever way of making money. That money was hard to get, but well earned. And because it was honest money, and I was making a lot of it, I gave. Loaned money to many – never under the guise that it was free - always with the understanding it would be paid back when times turned around for my trusted friends.

Times turned. The money hasn’t been paid back. I struggle. It's hard. But one thing I do know - taking a different road home sheds new light on things. Driving with abandon down strange streets, accelerating into the unknown, makes me feel free again. Roads appear you never knew existed. The path home, once so familiar, has a street named Irolo.

People will let you down. But keeping an open outlook feels better than harboring resentment. Better to ride free...

Gifts we give ourselves

This was one of those weeks. Life altering, big changes.

As I waited for my friends to arrive at said destination, in lieu of all the hardships I’ve faced this year, I reminded myself of what I have most.. in spades. Character. I asked myself, What is real character? Character, to me, is facing the odds with integrity. It’s getting the job done with an unrelenting passion and an unwavering positive outlook. I’m not talking about Prozac Nation phoniness. But insurmountable odds met with manifesting capacity for greatness. I paced the streets, in thought. I was happy for the moment to myself, to take stock in what I mean to ME. I have chosen a path that refuses compromise to my integrity.

Let me explain. For many years, I foraged my way through the streets of NYC. I was very young, had no real idea of who I was, what I could become. But one thing I knew for sure – I wanted to be the best version of myself. And I became an articulate, well-rounded individual with real edge. I was being exposed to every day situations that demanded moment’s notice action. I learned, through practice, to trust my instinct. It’s the greatest tool we have, underrated by miles. And something that - once cultivated- will never let you down. Not ever. After all – it’s coming from deep inside of you. It’s there to protect YOU.

After years of practice, I branched out to others, a natural recourse. If you aren’t sharing, what exactly are you doing? Friends and family came to depend on me. When I said I’d be somewhere, I’d be there. A situation arose that needed problem solving, I was there, front and center. To listen. Divide and conquer. Or step back and reevaluate together. Always a higher path for each and every one of us. We shouldn't ever live in conflict or misery. Hurting is horrible.. It was my honor to give back. I felt within my core, I had learned.

Now, the body is composed of many things, the heart being the trickiest of them all. Within this last year, I followed that muscle because of the years I spent without romantic love. I went backwards to a past love. In my mind it was a sure thing. We both loved each other deeply already. This would be easy.

It wasn’t. And it had to end. For the sake of both parties involved. Losing that sure thing was a blow to the head with a brick, but essential to my growth. We were both losing. To know when to cut your losses is as important as sensing a good thing and diving. Our lives - lived fully - must have both! In the end, knowing the difference is the battle. Which one you wage is up to you.

Tonight, I found myself in the presence of great minds. Not bogged down by so much grief and angst. No jealousy for my successful week rained on my parade. I was open and alive and for the first time in a long while – myself. The ‘me’ that has traversed many roads, found the right me. We talked of life. And art. And family. The participants sharing honest and brilliant insights, adding to the conversation. I felt as if I was among kindred spirits. The food was AMAZING. Home cooked by a chef, adoring wife, another loving couple, I was the proud fifth wheel. There was no unnecessary drama. Not one individual drew attention to themselves. All shared equal footing, a stage shared by all. We were there to teach each one another how to be, at our finest. Right where I belong, where I deserve to be. No pity party for me.

If we cannot get out of our own way, we are lost. Once we recognize our real strengths, and can contribute to our community of kinders, only then can we find home. Home is a good place to be. It’s only up from here for me.

With much gratitude.

The Ease

This is a dream I had the other night that I am working into a short film script. It is a work of fiction. Names have been changed to protect innocence.
It is the near future and The US is still in a Depression, only now it’s far worse than anyone had ever imagined. The banks have foreclosed on 80% of private residences, leaving the majority of suburbia looking like ghost towns and cities are filling with roach motels. People are living on top of each other, sometimes six to room. No longer can anyone afford privacy. Personal space is a thing of the past.

I had a corner to call my own in a loft apartment of an industrial warehouse with a bunch of young people. It was like a refugee camp, bodies of people camping on their section of the floor. There was little water to go around because the price of water had skyrocketed. Everyone slept in his or her own filth.

A bald, rabid, tattooed guy was being very mean to me, making fun of me. He yelled, pointing his finger in my face, going on about how I never married because I always pick the wrong guy. Perhaps he was flirting with me, but he did so in such a cruel and aggressive manner, upsetting me so much I had to get out of there. I began filling my backpack with what little I had left. It was important to travel lightly. One could never be sure when it was time to relocate. My friend Maggie came out of one of the bedrooms and offered me a cookie to stay. It was her place, paid for years ago in full by her rich father. Food was scarce, and sweets were very hard to come by. I said no, and as I was leaving, Edgar – my former boyfriend – walked thru the front door of the loft space. Maggie liked being surrounded by men. It made her feel safe. Not knowing our past and liking the looks of him, immediately offered him lodging, promising him my corner spot on the floor in exchange for providing her with cigarettes. We did not even acknowledge each other as I brushed past him in disgust.

The clouds in the sky were very dark, giving the air an ominous feel. As I wandered through the streets looking for somewhere to sleep for the night, I heard music coming from a church that had been converted into a nightclub. The dark clouds made it feel like night, even though it was mid afternoon. The club was in full effect, drawing people who needed to seek solace from the dire conditions.

A “new and improved” drug was introduced to the public, almost overnight, that relieved people of their depression instantly. It gave you a euphoric sensation like ecstasy, but without losing your faculties. In fact, it sharpened and heightened your senses. It made you feel uplifted and focused, like you could conquer anything. Of course, people everywhere had been depressed for too long, and the drug was being abused socially. People were grinding it up into a light blue powder and snorting it around the clock.

Unfortunately, the government was none too happy about the ease with which people could get their hands on it. It was released “by the people for the people” by a brilliant billionaire for no cost. It was everywhere.


As I approached the steps of the converted church, I saw a crowd of people surrounding the actor Bill Nighy, who was wearing an American Indian chief headdress and being interviewed for a live news broadcast on the sidewalk in front of the church steps. He was the inventor of this new drug and the white, red, and light blue feathers that framed his face and trailed to the ground bounced as he described the properties of it and the chemical breakdown. He explained how it differs from any other drug from the past because there were no negative side effects to the body whatsoever. He came across as a modern day Timothy Leary/Dirty Harry. Then, in the middle of the interview, he leaned over a metal divider and spit onto the road.

I climbed the steps towards the grand entrance of the club and saw several vaguely familiar faces who offered me a place to stay and some of this new drug. I didn’t want to take it, nor did I want to go inside this club. I sat down on the steps and watched people go in and out of the entrance, constantly putting the backs of their hands up to their noses to sniff the little blue powder they had poured there. Someone put some in front of my face and before I knew what was happening, my face grew numb. Just as I lit a cigarette, my Dad walked up, wearing a tee shirt and cut off shorts and no shoes. I threw the cigarette down before he could see me. He was in good spirits (most likely from the drug because it seemed as if everyone was on it!) and when he saw me, his face beamed as told me someone had stolen his tent. He had found a nice spot near my friend Dominic Chianese from NY, but when he went back there later in the day, Dominic was passed out and someone had taken all of his gear. He smiled as he retold the story.

I felt such sadness for my Dad. I couldn’t even help myself, so what could I do for him? My dad was homeless! But he seemed fine with it, not a care in the world. He continued on down the street in his bare feet. It broke my heart.

Everyone seemed alert and aware that something big was about to happen. It was only a matter of time until the people revolted, because the government had all our money and had turned the United States into a third world country. Unemployment was at almost 100% because there was no money to pay anyone to do anything. The dollar had ceased to have any value whatsoever.

Somewhere within earshot, the news was being broadcast through huge speakers. It blended in with the music coming from the club behind me. The top story was the government’s concern for the impending revolution. They were uncertain as to how far people would go while taking this new drug that seemed to render people uninhibited but ready for action. The problem the government faced was that the drug was released before they could place any kind of restriction on it and they were afraid of ‘rogues’. As I stood there listening to this news broadcast, the sky opened up and it began to pour rain. Everyone ran inside the club. I stood on the steps, getting drenched in rain. The streets were empty. Then, I heard a rumbling. Out of nowhere, Edgar appeared. He was driving a black 1971 mustang fastback, wearing a black shirt and a black hat. I stood there on the steps of the church, watching him slowly pass. I watched as he turned the corner. And then, he vanished.