Who am I? Who are You?

Dear,

man with all the questions and no answers:

 

I love to do handstands. I’m not afraid to try backflips and cartwheels in the sand even when people are watching. A tucked in shirt is all I need, but I prefer to leave it untucked. I love bellies upside down. I love to draw faces, mainly the eyes, the left first then the right so I don’t smudge the first. I love to sing at the top of my lungs, scream lyrics till my voice reaches back to the crack of puberty—I am seizing my adolescence back. I love to play Monopoly and Connect Four and Candyland with little kids and win, I love to play in fountains and get soaked whenever I can, especially when I am wearing nice clothes and have shoes on. I love socks when they’re squishy. I love to talk to myself in my head, to narrate my life, to imagine it in film noir, to see only colors, to imagine everything as a taste. I love to spend some days trying to speak in Iambic pentameter, or as if everything is an epic poem, or talk in third person. I love speak to myself in prose, in rhymes, I quote the works of artist’s before me. I love poetry and words and cadence and sounds and smells and imagining, wishing, and dreaming. I love quotes and dead people and remembering. I love tweed and elbow patches and words like, “chap” and “chum” and briarwood pipes things that are not pipes. I love to do what I do not do to learn what I truly love. I run because I’m tired, I fast because I’m hungry, I love because I’m loved. I write to remember, I write to forget—to forgive. I love to jump and stomp and twirl and clap whenever I see something new. I love. I love to dare, to risk, to fly, to go, to eat a peach when they are in season and when they’re not. I love tea in belly. I love rock beneath my fingertips and free air underneath my heals. I love to climb. I love to hike and walk and wander and grass and sun and moon and ice below my boots and crampons. I love the way a flower unfolds, opening itself to the cruel world. I love the stars of a skyline, I love the way they glitter. I love star wars and science, and fiction and when you mash those things together. I love zombies and being ready to be the last human on earth. I have always been ready. I love believing in Magic and good madness and beauty and goodness and truth and comedy above morality, and strangeness. I love the word cacophony. I love dissonance. I love dog ears…a lot. I love movies where things happens and people do stuff. I love Bad television and dinosaurs and aliens and Crime Shows, but I am afraid of parasites and spiders because small things that can kill you are scary, like lies and guilt and revenge. I love graphic novels and candy and tire swings and taking the bus and sitting next to windows that have nice views. I love cozy chairs that smell like the past, rooms that hold memories in the wooden floorboards and termites. I love her and him and her and her and you and I wonder If loving so many things makes love meaningless. I love to think about those kinds of things. I love to give aways pieces of myself to others, to keep, to smash, to love back, to… I love that love has no end when it flow not from within. I hate the cold but I love the night so I walk the deserted streets with the volume turned up on my thinking and I give the thoughts that are whispered too me to the dark windows of every home. I love coffee, and mustard: Dijon, honey, Grey Poupon, stone ground, horseradish. I love fine books and the way they smell, books without spines, books with no covers, new books, old books, musty books, books that belonged to grandpa and dad, books that have notes written in blue cursive. I love hand holding and light touches on the forearm or shoulder, I love hugs, lots of hugs, hugs where cheeks touch and hugs where lips meet, those these are most rare. I love Dr. Seuss and Cat’s who wear hats, but I hate dogs who wear sweaters, but I love dogs and puppies and tigers and Foxes and Otters and Newts and all kinds of amphibians because it is fun to touch their skin which is slimy even though you have to wash your hands after, I love them. I love hopscotch and sushi and turkey sandwiches with avocado and plaid shirts and shirts with front pockets and I love to spin on the things in the parks that go round and round and make you dizzy because it is fun if you are with a friend and you get off after spinning and cover your face and try and touch each other’s tummies. I love to swing and run through the sprinklers and slide down slides and eat ice cream cones with ice cream or no ice cream. I love Peanut Butter. I love to get sprayed with mist and rainbows and even a few T.V. shows, like: The Rugrats, Doug, The Fairly Odd Parents, Cat Dog, Sabrina the Teenage Witch, Kim Possible, Legends of the Hidden Temple, All-that, Double Dare, Recess, Pepper Ann, Pelswick, Ed, Edd n’ Eddy, Dexter’s Lab, Powerpuff Girls, The Angry Beavers, Dragon Ball Z, Gundam Wing, Catdog, Cow and Chicken, Rocko’s Modern life, Thundercats, Power Rangers, Inspector Gadget, Looney Tunes, Megaman, Batman Beyond, Justice League, Johnny Quest, Johnny Bravo, Bobby’s World, Adventure Time, The Weekenders, Duck Tales, Alvin and the Chipmunks, Talespin, Chip and Dale Rescue Rangers, Pink Panther, Reboot, Hey Arnold. I love to ride bikes, sunlight in trees, swimming, eating Mac n’ cheese, cooking, eating, living, flossing, painting, leaning, traveling, praying, hoping, winking, dancing, dancing, climbing, thinking, reading, climbing, elaborating, expounding, searching, finding, losing, recovering, saving, forfeiting, sacrificing, receiving, loving, being.

 

This is me and I like it. I love a lot of things. This is who I am. Get used to it, or please leave me alone.

Sincerely,

Paul

 

This cage in which they have locked me in,

From it I have broken free.

It bent into a canvas that, no one paints but me.

I shall choose the colors then,

to blend them on my palate,

and paint my love on this, or brush my heart on that

not one can write upon this art—

It is not a simple piece put on display,

But in constant motion stirs and bears a human name.

I walk the world a living color

Dripping as I go

This for only me to understand

And not for you to know.

I welcome your thoughts!

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