Allan, thank you for your interest in what I want to be when I am fully grown with a family and everything, I hope you don't mind but I got bored so you will get a full blown answer, I would not mind in the least, if you erase this email and let it slip your mind that it just entered. I want to be about 80% performer 20% artist but 100% bad ass. I realize that this statement, if followed through with, will more than likely bring me to a very lonely life in the eyes of love and charishments from the opposite sex. I mean hell it already has. Every so often I allow a special woman into my life, I get bashed into one thousand mirrored pieces shattered on the ground. The women I have chosen so far see themselves having to support another person while the mirror image does nothing to bring in the bacon as they say. But what these women don't understand is that it takes time and dedication away from them to follow throw with my hopes and dreams, that they simply see as childish or pipe dreams. No body knows what you or I are capable of until we prove them wrong one tedious step at a time. I know you must have felt this feeling, your father or mother thought it was a great idea for you to be apart of something bigger than yourself, only to realize that you abandoned everything concrete to build a fragile piece of art made of paper, coins, dreams, and ideas that we must stand upon and perform our duties daily of entertaining. You may not realize this, actually you may not do this, but I am always working whether thinking of my next painting that I will sell at a craft fair, or of my next biggest effect. I did the math a few weeks ago, I work on magic/ art about 40 hours a week, and I have a "crap" job where I work about 30-35. Would you imagine this, I still don't get respect from anybody. I work more than everybody in my family combined right now, and I get the least respect because I wish to live on this fragile paper hybrid in the form of a tower that I bring great pride in constructing.
With out love.
With out love my veins are like empty streets.
Dark empty streets.
Walking aimlessly with myself to meet.
You hide your feelings and attempt being discreet.
Oh, if you only had a chance. But your alone on the concrete.
You would fake smiles and try even harder to release a small laugh.
Wishing you could have your head in the clouds like a giraffe.
Walking on cold, hard, rocky cement.
Trying to forget about your Louis Lane or Clark Kent.
Feeling lonely and pathetic, feeling 20 percent.
I am shoeless.
I am clueless.
I am lost at life.
Why couldn't she be my one and only wife.
I ask God "Why do I need to be in these empty streets!"
My replies are echoes of my own repeats.
How ironic, rejected by the one who loves.
Next I will get attacked by flowers and doves.
Just then I turn a corner and find a little dog.
While I walk toward him, dissipates the fog,
And the sun peaks his head out.
Don't worry puppy, everything is fine now, without a doubt.
As I pet behind her scruffy and floppy ears,
I can sense and feel the warmth and what she will bring, good years.
With out love.
With out love my veins are like empty streets.
Dark empty streets.
Walking aimlessly with myself to meet.
You hide your feelings and attempt being discreet.
Oh, if you only had a chance. But your alone on the concrete.
You would fake smiles and try even harder to release a small laugh.
Wishing you could have your head in the clouds like a giraffe.
Walking on cold, hard, rocky cement.
Trying to forget about your Louis Lane or Clark Kent.
Feeling lonely and pathetic, feeling 20 percent.
I am shoeless.
I am clueless.
I am lost at life.
Why couldn't she be my one and only wife.
I ask God "Why do I need to be in these empty streets!"
My replies are echoes of my own repeats.
How ironic, rejected by the one who loves.
Next I will get attacked by flowers and doves.
Just then I turn a corner and find a little dog.
While I walk toward him, dissipates the fog,
And the sun peaks his head out.
Don't worry puppy, everything is fine now, without a doubt.
As I pet behind her scruffy and floppy ears,
I can sense and feel the warmth and what she will bring, good years.
