yes, i was stoned

It's just barely Friday. The moths at the porch light are turning the porch into a little disco stage, with a light breeze causing to sway the things that do. The interstate traffic two blocks west keeps a steady hum of life and industry. Two blocks east the town's oldest cemetery sees only the life of a family of red foxes inside locked wrought iron gates. I sit halfway between the two, half in the lively hum, half in the dark silence.

I'm so easily discouraged, but it's a lifelong game I've played with myself, and here in the middle it doesn't crush me so hard anymore.

I marvel at the people who want to call me friend, who will push through a crowd to embrace me as I ponder all those who don't even notice me.

The world is huge, vast, and I am just a tiny speck, but there are times, precious few, when I recognize the impact I can make, the impact I am making just by my mere presence.

There is no real need to doubt my talents, but simple recognition is meaningless without action. It's not too late, as I'm sometimes led to believe. I am doing it. I am conquering the limitations of my past lives. This is what it all comes down to, this is where it begins: Every moment lends itself to opportunity. I can go from this moment toward the rewards of my hard work. Not to prove my worth, but rather to be the worthy recipient.

It is better to give than to receive, so here you go, here is my promise to you: Expect great things of me and I will deliver. Take what I offer and cherish it for the gift it is; it will entertain you and enrich you and you will be as grateful for me as I am for you.