Fulfillment

Life is awesome! There is nothing about my life that I would want to change nor do over again to create a different effect. Feeling content in being and loving ALL as best as can be leaves me whole and fulfilled. Therefore, if I were to die tomorrow, i.e., getting hit by an NYC bus, etc., I can say that I have lived a full life. Sure, it was not a life of splendor nor riches, but it was/is a life of experiences and memories. No, I have not experienced all things, however, the feeling of life is within me and the possibilities are endless!

Being whole and content is a form of freedom as it enables me to be myself despite possible ridicule. Mother calls me "IT." I joke not yet I find it very funny. The odd thing is that it used to hurt. I feel sorry for her bitterness as she lives in a hell of sorts by being bound by what others think. Should I decide to give myself a bean shave, what will "THEY" think! I don't give a fuck what "THEY" think. I don't live by "THEIR" standards nor their "NORMS."

Why would I try to make myself uglier than I am already? Well, I would do it to see who sees past "THAT" image. The one I have created thus far is as clear as glass because despite the hard exterior, people see my heart.  Well, what if one donned the "look, I am crazy" persona? Could that been seen past as well? Mind you, what fluff or soft interior that I have, one of cold calculation lies right next to it.

My old eyes contain old/new visions. I live life on my terms, but in doing so, I have faced fear of others and self and discovered that fear is binding. Fear of this, that, and the other thing is paralyzing. Overcoming that which binds creates a phoenix from the ashes. Even if I fly into a wall, I have flown!

Give me a poor man's rose (even if made out of paper, Kleenex, or toilet paper held together with a pipe cleaner, string, or shoelace ( hand made it is more valuable)) any day over a rich man's gold. The definition of life is in the living and sharing of it.

Jack of all trades, but master of none
In the end, all I have is fun
Chronological in years, but not in form
Keeps me from being like Dick & Jane "Norm"
Spot peed on the carpet
But it worries me not
He's an invisible dog
The one I ain't got
Piddle this one only if you may
"Mad Hatter Syndrome" allows me to PLAY
Not much for money, material, and the like
Don't give me gold, as I'd like a kite
When its been flown dusk until dawn
That is when I'll pass it along
Hopefully to a wigged-out monkey
Who is singing a piddle song

What say you is the meaning of life? Do you act your age? If so, does it bring you down?  ~ Maggie ~ August 20, 2007 @ 10:52 p.m.
People I am thinking about at this minute: Nix (spoke to this eve), Neo (spoke to this eve), Peter (my teacher & my friend - spoke to this eve), Pappy, Jason (I need to send him the Charlie toon (*sent)), Jeff, Marie, Gracie (who I left a message for noting arrival), Lisa, Dominic, Fat Bobby (who I always think of), Patrick, Ilan, Mohammed, Aznive, Anna, Carlos, Randy, Ryan, Ann, Craig, and Drew (Andrew - dead but loved). Just Everyone. Even Sam. Ana ahebik.