(more) on being american

I am trying. I tried, and i continue to try. I hope i never let up on it. I hope i never give up trying. I hope i never give up on you and me. I try and look at my entitlement and back it off when i can. i stay focused on being honest. I hope i never stop.  i am often honest to a fault. I hope you are, too. Even if it’s to our own detriment.  I doubt im really american. Though i was born and raised here and have been on this soil for about forty years of my forty years and four months in this life. Irregardless. I offer up what i have, my way of of knowing or thinking or believing what i need to know and defending it, or not having to defend it, or becoming someone who believes something in a slightly diferent way or understands something in a completely new way. or being content with knowing on my sliding slope of awakening… or not being content and becoming uncomfortable and becoming someone slightly re-adjusted or assuaged or massaged into a deeper way of feeling what i know or do not know or feeling my way into a new way of living, breathing, and experiencing myself from the inside out, feeling in my veins in my blood in my marrow a telltale shift of currents, drawing up from the eddies the gyres, the labryinths of my mind a bit of old blood to recirculate again and remember that which i have forgotten, stirring up sensual and essential sounds sights and aromas, tasting the old life again and hungering to drop that shit right into the new paradigm of my life, thirsting out the light of my eyes to connect with the light in yours and find that  old abiding love i lost. and let me tell ya. fuckin- A. tastes hella sweet, yes indeed. yes indeed it does. yes indeed.

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