I’ll Be Seeing You, Again, Soon

I’ll Be Seeing You, Again, Soon…

           Welcome back My Dearest Readers to The Other Shoe. I have been away for six days, not without good reason. On July 11 of this year I started a campaign to raise money to help me move. A very successful campaign, I might add. However, since I started that campaign I have not taken time away for myself. In the past six months I; was forced to move from a place I called home for a decade, watched a man I dearly love work to undermine his best efforts and destroy his life in slow motion, did everything I could to raise enough money to move alone if need be, packed the majority of my home by myself (which, in my condition, was; terrifying, painful, and humiliating), moved, lost, and worked the very fiber of my being to regain myself and what little status I had in the community I choose to express myself.

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Life deciding, that not being enough, all along I was in a quiet battle with my own pain. Since right before Allen left my pain has been on a steady path increase in severity and how long it visits me. Going hand in hand with this debilitating pain are frequent fevers, severe headaches, and intense burning sensation in my neck… Like someone pouring lava down the back of my head. Through all that, My Dear Readers, I have done my best to do two things. First, never stop writing. As a boy I thought choir was my voice, as a young man I thought the stage would be my voice, as a middle-aged man you hear my voice right here. Second, ‘show no pain’… Thanks Dad.

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I hope I have succeeded, My Dear Readers. For of all that which I wished to share with you my pain-and-suffering are not numbered among them. All along in the background I been searching for my voice. Who am I? Am I a humorist? Doubtful I don’t find what going on America amusing in the slightest nor do I find any humor in the life I’ve been left to lead. Am I a humanist? Definitely I look at today and I can compare it to the other time I know best in my life. The 60s.

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When the 60s began I was three years old. By the time it was all over; three great Americans had been struck down in the ;rime of thier lives, America had put men on the moon, African-Americans were full citizens with the right to vote, and I was a teenager. America faces similarly difficult times right now today. Am I a humanist? Damn right I am!

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But that’s not enough, My Dear Readers, everybody’s got have a hook. In three years I have written 308 articles. Literally tens of thousands of; Americans, Asians, Mediterranean’s, people from all over this good Earth have visited my blog and read my words. Not shabby.

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But I owe you more. And more is what you will get. My battle with my disability and pain will continue unabated, until I draw my last breath. But something else will continue as well, My Dear Readers, this blog, my writing, and ‘The Adventures of Princess Nadia’. Because you see all along I’m working on my tail. You want to know what irony is? To speech program wrote T A I L not T A L E That’s ironic.

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My Dear Readers, I wish I could be here several times every day. If I had a staff, if I had an editor, if I had anyone on God’s green earth any kind of help with these two blogs I’d be writing to you several times a day and publishing. I love you all so much. You are the reason I get up in the morning, you’re the reason I endure the pain, you’re the reason I breathe today. If I’m not here on these pages it’s not because I don’t want to be. If I’m not here, more times than not, it’s because I cannot be. And for that, I apologize.

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Hopefully, starting later today I’m going to be writing with more of a direction. Right now I’m fixing to go… to go, to the biweekly… triweekly? Every two days. Process of removing a pain patch and putting on a new one. A simple process, eh? If they made these darn things worth a damn it would be. However, we live in reality and the damn things are made for profit so it takes me a good two hours to get one to stick.

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As soon as that is done, My Dear Readers, I will return here and talk with you more. Oh how I love talking to you... you are the future... you do realize that, right? All of us. Young, old, teen, 20 something, African American, Caucasian, Hispanic, Latino, we are the future.

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A humanist is a man or woman who looks at the world around them and says to themselves “we can do better”. I know we can, I’ve seen it with my own two eyes. Hopefully, My Dear Readers, over the next days, weeks, months, years I will share with you how we can all do it better. I’ll share with you how even though the 60s were an era of assassinations, we did the human part right. And how, today we are really screwing up the human part. Oh Lord we know how to make money Lordy yes! But in the pursuit of avarice mankind has traded humanity… Humility… The art of being a human is being traded it for the art of being wealthy at someone else’s expense.

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You see, no one ever tells you that. Prior to meeting Allen, and after I left Pearland Texas. A little city krpt drawing me back to its borders. No matter where I looked for a job, no matter where I chose to live this little city kept calling me back to its borders. That little city? That little city was… Beverly Hills. You can’t really work, live, eat, play in the city of Beverly Hills without getting to know wealthy people, wealth, money and the God of it all avarice.

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I simply must get in the shower… I met a screenwriter. This old screenwriter used to write for Colombo and McMillan and wife. He said the strangest thing to me. He said “Daniel there’s only a finite amount of wealth in the world. Humanity is not about hoarding that money. Being human… Being human is making sure that everybody has enough to live.”

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I’ll leave you with that.