by

A Certain High

Sometimes it’s as if I live life for life’s sake.

Every moment feels like another hit contributing to my high.  And through the troubles, I appreciate being able to eventually come unscathed.  It’s not that I look through life through rose-colored glasses, it could not be any further from that.  And sadly it is not always friendships that keep me going as well; I have had my share of cynicism and self-doubt.

The high-speed blur of my life, I’ll instead describe as yearning for perfection and completion.  I make up my mind quickly and strike out to accomplish as fully as I can what I need to accomplish.  Sometimes that makes others view me as excessively carefree and opportunistic.  But then, I will ask, why not seize opportunity when it presents itself?  And so, I have learned much, obtained much happiness, yet have also suffered in same kind.  What I feel makes me different is that I force myself to learn from mistakes instead of being tied down by them.

I admit I have my own indulgences in this imperfect world.  My lust for life that sometimes borders on hedonism, the stimulation of experiencing that carries me, the joy of laughter that accompanies happy times, and the deepness of self-introspection that brings us out of self-imposed seclusion.

This year certainly personifies all this as it comes rapidly to a close.

As I look out of the window of my 21st floor suite at The Peninsula, I can still feel the rustle and bumble of Times Square still is strong in the heavy New York City air.  In less than 24 hours, I’ll be on an airplane over the Atlantic, en-route to the eclectic mish-mash that Paris could only be.  A chapter falls behind me, and another is opened.

I wonder where I will go next?

by

Raindrops

The car’s German heart hums in a bel canto aria, accompanied by the rustling of tires carving into the highway.  My hand rests on your lap between the shifts, and you’re scratching the back of my neck, even though you know it completely mellows me out.

The rain pitter-patters coyly on the windshield, before the wipers scurry to chase away the offending droplets.  We have no direction to go, yet it doesn’t matter today.  The skyscrapers keep us company, towering along both sides of the 110, seemingly bowing over to shelter us from the rain clouds.

It’s days like these that I wish would never end, when things seem to fall into the right places.

by

Tranquility

Her hair peeks at me shyly from under the covers.  With a smile, I pull the remainder of the covers around her, as she sleeps on.

The Sun is bright this Sunday afternoon.  Outside the balcony, I can see the leaves quivering slightly in the Santa Barbara breeze.  The streets wind along, spelling out an indecipherable soliloquy that embraces a still drowsy city.  Opening the glass door gingerly, as not to upset her sleep, I step outside, the slate cold against my bare feet.  With a sigh, I plop down on the deck chair, sinking deep into the cushions.  The breeze caresses my warm cheeks, brushing my hair aside.

It makes me remember the previous night, running hand-in-hand, yelling at the top of our lungs like children through the empty streets.  “1-2-3” she yells before jumping onto me.  Surprised, I instinctively cradle her under my arms as she chuckles under her breath.  She leans up, kissing me on the cheek, before letting out a sedated sigh.

There were those times, where we sat solemnly on the swing under the willow, the drooping branches swaying as gently as we rocked back and forth.  The good times, I guess, where only the blood coursing excitedly throughout our veins took care of the talking.  Her spring time youth had a way of mollifying my tendency for rigidness, making the edges of my lips crease with smiles.

She understood my deepness without really understanding it.  Once upon a time, I thought myself a White Knight.  Once upon a time, I could save the world.  Once upon a time, I cared much more. I don’t want to save anyone.  I don’t want to change anyone’s life.  I don’t want to be a giver, without being a taker first.  In a way, I’m content with the here and now.  The future, they say, can wait.

by

Movement

His dark eyes don’t betray him.  The trials throughout the years have dulled their brightness some, yes, but there is still a certain intensity about the underlying gaze.  He still lives his life one tank of gasoline at a time, the product of a restless mind and soul.  From one place to the next, peace seems to be elusive, one step ahead of him.

But there are a few places; the lonely beach bracketed by cliffs, the hills above the city, the quietness of the mountains, carving lines down a windy road, that somehow bring solace.  It is here that he breathes easily.

There’s this thing he learned in years since gone, and it’s that the slow life is worth living.  Good companions, good food, the laughter and chatter that whispers into the night.  The rustling of the fireplace, that seems to sing a quiet lullaby for a troubled soul.  Throwing his head back, accompanied by Steinbeck, Ellison, his lips slowly musing to Ginsberg and Plath.

He prefers small groups, intellectual conversation, art and soul moving literature… perhaps a production here and there, things that the fast moving life of Los Angeles often leaves behind and forgets.  As a child, he had a penchant to approach total strangers, striking up conversation with simple, open-ended questions such as, “what’s your life all about?”  From these multitude of people, he’s learned a lot about life; his views stitched together from bits and pieces of his experiences.

But still, a deep realist, there is a certain understanding of how things should be, and how things are.  Somehow, for all the travels spanned across 44 countries, there’s still a feeling of loneliness in the world where not many people take the time to reflect on even the most mundane things anymore.

So there he is, alone by the beach, the crashing of the waves deafening like a rising concerto grosso, there is real peace.  Perhaps one day he’ll share this with a beautiful woman, but for now, he prefers to rise and fall alone.