New Years Eve, 2017

"I never loved another person the way I loved myself."
~Mae West

Watching people is one of the few things that can hold my attention for more than 36 seconds. Sometimes I forget that I am not invisible and they can see me too. Eye-contact is not part of my people watching, totally ruins the show.

Having watched my favorite story, "The Peep Show", for years now, I've begun to notice the reruns. It's the same storyline, over-and-over, the human struggle for self-esteem. 

What worries people the most is how they are perceived by others, the benchmark for normal. What their friends think. What their co-workers think. What their neighbors think. This is the stuff that fills the bottom of our luggage.

Do you want to be normal or do you want to be happy? Imagine if you really knew your true essence, the steam that runs your soul. You would have so much time on your hands to think of other things. Is that a bad thing? 

Organized religion has no bedside manner and is therefore of no help. All this "if you do this, that will happen...it you don't do this..." etc., scaring the crap out of me. That's just so much negativity and it wears a person down.

So, I'm considering starting my own church and it's called "The Church of Your Self is Steam". All of my sermon's will consist of me looking at you and saying "You are good, you are beautiful, and you are worthy of happiness just the way you are". If you attend long enough, you will start to believe me, and then you won't need to attend at all. Religion should be like good therapy.

Try to remember: Your self is steam, with no boundaries. Steam can not be molded, and that's what makes you who you genuinely are. If you allow other's to dictate your worth, your steam will turn to water. Once your essence turns to water, someones gonna freeze you into shaped ice. That'll make you a frozen dog at someone else's salvation, and nobody wants that. 

So there you have it.

The Holiday Bridge

Sometimes, I run away to the circus. (No real animals were injured in the cropping off of this pony’s lower torso, though it was indeed a sacrifice to the bigger picture.) Sometimes, I run away to the circus for years at a time. I run away because I lose the magic dust that makes me a writer, and the circus is the only place I know where to find it.

It’s time to write. I need to write, mostly about bullshit, and I need you to read. Sorta like the tree falling in the woods, and waiting to become paper to make a noise. Thank you for being the  ink on the paper all these years.

Mostly, remember, the holiday season, is but a bridge to the new year, and I’m always glad to see a new year. On that, I wish you all a smooth and beautiful slide to 2018. I will see you on the the other side.

So there you have it.