It’s about time I turned my pen in the direction of my muse. You have kept me amused. You have kept up the ruse. It’s incredible that you put up with my shit, at all, or even a bit. Thank you. Or should I thank your parents for doing such a great job? But that would probably weird them out, unless it’s that day when it’s just you and I, and the witnesses before God. But I can thank you for your smile, right? It makes me weak, day after day, week after week. I can see it even when we’re on the phone and I’m listening to you speak. How you are so perfect for me is unreal, but you’re perfect for my art and that sets you apart from the masses. I don’t know. You’re like whoa. I can’t put my finger on it. A word like amazing doesn’t even cover it. I’m at the helm of overwhelmed. I want to live to the extreme and not the middle. If you’re “like the wind”, I don’t wanna be the dude in the movie saying “ditto”. I’ve given up. I’ve been struck by lightning. I’ve stopped fighting. It’s scary. Not really. I love it. And where it’s going. Whether it’s sunny, raining, chilly or snowing. I can be extraordinary now. Not that I couldn’t before, but now it means more. Now it means I have someone to turn to when I need to laugh. Someone to turn to when the girl with the fake boobs wants an autograph. I have someone to Skype with when I’m in the hotel room taking a bath. I have someone to escape with when I’m taking a turn off the beaten path. Yes, I have someone to turn to. When I yearn to. You may not know how to react to it, but you’ll learn to. I won’t cheapen it with words. Words are just letters and we can do better. Like, look at the day when no words were spoken and something inside us that was sleeping woke up and that spell… it still has never been broken.
(written while packing for Miami)