I have written for most of my life. The memories of the first words are still there. It all started someday a long long time ago, about when I was twelve. Walking home words lingered in my head. It was about my grandmother, welita, how I was afraid of losing her but instead the words have been lost in time and time took her eventually too.

I remember they were about my love for her and the fear of loss. Those two topics have created most of my teenage scriptures. They were poems and short stories that most couldn’t understand. They were (an attempt to be artistic) and underappreciated, like a teenage boy’s life. They were filled with doubt. Doubts if they were worth the read, worth the share and most of all worth the time.

“Was I worth anything at all?

The candles that melted, smoke that lingered and the wine that has accompanied the adolescents didn’t bring much good. They were a whirlwind of emotions that I never understood. Why, was I thinking this? Why, was I feeling so much? Why, was I the only one?

I wasn’t. As I discovered the internet, the world wide web discovered me. I resisted. I embraced. I got chewed up and spit out. I took my distance and lost track of time. I wandered back and some things were just like the first time. I discovered worlds, wrote stories, half books, but none could fill this empty heart of mine.

I turned 30, and a decade later the 3 turned into 4. I never wrote as that young boy anymore, but here I sit writing it all down. That young boy, got lost, found his way, wanted to die, survived another day, grew more than he ever could imagined and let it all slip away.

That young boy, lost his life. But never his appetite. So here, yes it is I. I lost my ways, and with that, forgot the words. I discovered myself, a beast deep inside. I lingered the thoughts and with a slow recover, here I am, laying it all down.

The boy is a man. The fear is still there, but now there is fuel to discover more. To be deeper in myself. To give more, share more and show the world what can be.

Apparently, all you have to be, is just you, and grow from a boy into a man.

Music of Choice: Bronski Beat – Smalltown Boy

“Smalltown Boy”

Cry, boy, cry, boy, cry

Cry, boy, cry

You leave in the morning with everything you own in a little black case

Alone on a platform, the wind and the rain on a sad and lonely face

Mother will never understand why you had to leave
But the answers you seek will never be found at home
The love that you need will never be found at home

Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away
Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away

Pushed around and kicked around, always a lonely boy
You were the one that they’d talk about around town as they put you down

And as hard as they would try they’d hurt to make you cry
But you never cried to them, just to your soul
No, you never cried to them, just to your soul

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