Sunday, May 29, 2011


He was laying in bed, a bit sweaty from the humidity, a lot sweaty from the restlessness of the night. He should have been sleeping, but instead his mind raced with thoughts. One of which was how much he hated nights like this. Before he went to bed, Hayden knew tonight would be one of those nights. The thoughts started before he even considered sleep.

Hayden was habitual. Habitual to the point that even the Farmers Almanac considered adding a section for his predicting his habits. This was especially true for going to bed. Very few nights passed when he was not in bed at his normal time. And so, tonight was no exception. Hayden was in bed by 1am. And, just like clock work, he fell asleep quickly.

But that didn't stop his mind from waking him up. And it was all those thoughts racing through his mind that now kept him up. Hayden couldn't decide; was it the thousands of thoughts, or the fact that his body actually was now tense rather than relaxed that kept him up.

And so he laid there in bed, fighting a million thoughts with a million more. Why couldn't she just be honest? Why did she just disappear without a word? Didn't he earn her trust by now?

Then there was his boss. His boss was an insensitive clod. Is this the defining quality of an entrepreneur? Did Hayden have what it takes to be a clod? Why should he?

And then there was regret. Why should regret even exist? It had to be from the devil himself.

Eventually, Hayden got up. And like previous nights, he opened his favorite bottle of Gentleman Jack. Ok, fine, it was not his favorite bottle. It was his five hundredth and thirteenth favorite bottle. He already went through five hundred and twelve. Not that anyone was counting.

Gentleman Jack was smooth. Hayden like to compare it to the smooth skin of a woman's most intimate parts. It was heavenly, desirable above all else, and sometimes, he felt like he couldn't get enough. And he would never say no to a taste.

Hayden decided tonight he would drink it straight. No tonic, no rocks nor anything else. The first sip was the best. He closed his eyes as the flavors tingled its way down. He took a moment to breath in its aromas. Hayden chuckled as he compared this moment to that first moments of going down south. He would taste, and breathe it all in. Slowly savoring every bit of sensuality the moment provided before diving in.

He slammed down the rest. Tonight, one was not enough. So he poured himself another ounce of the juice. As Hayden slowly drained the glass, he pondered comparably to savoring his favorite lady. Tonight would be a great night to indulge in her. And not just once.

After the third serving, Hayden finally put himself back in bed. And he laid there. This time, it was different.

Slowly, the tingling sensations relaxed his body. And his mind. Perhaps the most important part needing to be relaxed. As Hayden fell asleep, he contemplated again on thoughts of savoring the after glow of being entangled with her. Tonight, whiskey was a substitute. But he longed for her. And that thought put him to sleep.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

the world beautiful

He stood on the other side of the TSA barrier, that now separated himself from her. In between the blobbing heads of busy travelers, he could see her face, and the quiet tears that clouded her eyes. He do not want to leave, say good bye. He wanted to stay with her.

He fought back the intense desire to run back to her, hold her tight. It took every ounce of strength to turn towards the gate. Each step strained against his inner most desire to be re-united. Each step ached.

He looked for strength. To him, their time together was reaffirmation he wanted to spend every day with her, eternity. And while he longed to hear she felt the same way, he found strength in the hope of being reunited. He hoped that they would make plans to be together and make it happen. Soon

And so from hope he found strength. He walked on, not because he wished to leave her. He knew he had to go, if he was to come back. And to come back is exactly everything he now lived for.

She made his world beautiful. He wasn’t going to let that go again, ever..

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Change is scary. It's even more so, the older one gets. Which is actually counter to what it should be. As we get older we should be growing more confident in ourselves. Yet, we tend to get more pensive.

Failure has conditioned us to re-consider change. As we experience changes in our lives, whether we wish them or not, we also experience failure. When the failure becomes too painful, too great, the temptation is to resist change.

Failure becomes a bar, a vivid reminder, held so visible, in ones consciousness, it feels impossible to overcome. The pain becomes too much. It's no longer in ones mind to make the best of the situation, but to avoid it all together--a shrinking back, so as to remove any chance for another memory, another bar to overcome. We don't always realize such retreat is actually change, until there is nothing more to shelter us. Exposed, we now have a choice.

Life has two paths: grow or shrink. There is no middle road, a path of no change. Either we are growing, or we are shrinking.

For most of us, failure and change become tools for making ourselves, our lives, better--the path of growth. A few shrink, until there is nothing left.