Newton, MA

Am I living my life correctly? My imagination soars at every glance of beauty, and yet there is none that I seek to grab hold of. Ideals, professions, women, goals. I do my best only when driven by guilt. Is that a good way to live? It worked for Lancelot, but then I’m no knight. I’d rather be chasing joy than running from sorrow.
But that’s no reason to stop running, only a reason to start chasing. My heart quickens at a sidelong glance from pretty eyes; and again when the waves lap against the sunlight. So where does my precocious heart find a ground? Wherein lies the middle path?

I’m full on bread and salad, who’s to eat my butternut squash ravioli!?! I need to make butternut squash!!! It tastes like burnt sweet cinnamon! The Mondovi Pinot Noir is excellent, too. Light in character, it has legs, and tastes of alcohol in a pleasant fashion. Not too harsh. This has been the least vegan meal I’ve had in months. Unadvertised, it came covered in cream sauce. Much like in life, we don’t get to know people from a casual conversation or a polite one. We have to order them up and nibble or feast. Afternoon in the sun, a long talk over coffee & a fire, these would be my ideal portions. Now, how does one order? From where does one find the means to look at a menu? For lust this is easy. For love or hope, this is proving to be most difficult.

“I’ll Know” – Guys & Dolls. How do Broadway musicals define me so much?
Speaking of definitions, I do realize that my utter conviction to be ‘Anthony’ and not one fo the ‘little kids’ is directly related to my urge to distinguish my internal motives. Thanks, Erin!
It is this distinguishing that makes me want to love a soul and not lust for skin and curves. But desire is desire, no? I’m an Atheist, a lover, a dreamer, and a giver. Which of these is me and which is a reaction to my environment? According to that definition, is there a me? Oh, logical imperatives! To that fate I owe my atheism! Sucks to your ass-mar, C.S. Lewis!

I wish I was beautiful. I wish I could express to all who are beautiful what I feel. And have it believed! Ay, there’s the rub. But what is beauty contained in the eyes and the hair and the light against a shimmering thigh compared to the beauty in a person’s soul? Where can we gauge compassion? A little meter over the head ala D&D? Alas, no. I guess you have to order off the menu before you realize if it’s vegan or not.
Dress it up as I do, you’d think I did not feel desire as others do. I’m its slave just as much as the next guy, but I’ve sublimated it to something romantic and ‘clean’. I know I’m doing it, and yet I feel my Hamletesque musings preferable to the “Domino Effect Effect” guy. (David Cross, my friend.) And yet I admire balls-to-the-wall heavy-handedness, simply for its honesty. Am I honest? Not yet, I think. Working on it!