The Inner Contemplations of a Weary Mind

This post should be preceded by the warning that i sometimes create posts that are journalistic in nature... The need to express thoughts in words that i may read my heart and thus, in a way, counsel my own soul. Such is the following...

Several conversations emerged last night that have set my mind wondering...

A beautiful young girl expressed her desire to be with me... And i hold her at arms length, given i am eight years her senior.

A friend tells me that i need to sleep with as many girls as i can; to live youth to the fullest...

i'm told that i'm a great guy, however, am too nice... too grounded... not wild enough...

hm...

i suppose that my wild nature is of a somewhat different sort than is expected. While to some a "wildness" is seen by achieving as many 'notches' on one's belt as possible, "sowing the wild oats" so to speak, my personal tastes are of a different vintage. i prefer a dance in the rain, or a sudden trip to Italy or Ireland. i am of a mischievous sort that is an off-shoot of an imaginative mind. A bar is stifling to me, where a walk through the woods is teeming with life. Thus my apathy towards drunkenness, and my preference for scotch, wine, and delicious meals leaves me in an often awkward position; finding few within my own age who accept, let alone engage, in such activities.

Of late i have questioned my own safety as well. Although i believe that by nature i am a gentle man, a "nice" man, i wonder as to my safety. The man i dragged out from the bathroom closet last night, punching him in the head and nearly breaking his wrist, would hardly consider me a gentle or nice person. Nor do i have any desire to be gentle or nice in such a setting. i am reminded of a book by C. S. Lewis: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. "Is he (the Lion) safe?" "Safe? No. He is hardly safe. But he is good." I feel that change within me. Surely any man who carries a firearm with him at all times could hardly be considered safe. Yet if that man is good, he carries with him a "safety" that is only experienced by those who know his goodness. Those who desire evil against him and those he loves will hardly consider this good man "safe" when his power is unsheathed.

It is interesting, and a little comforting, to know that even now my character, my heart, continues to change. Hopefully it is for the best. i do not know what changes, good or ill, will occur on the morrow, however, i hope that it is for a deeper "wildness," a greater strength to be both "gentle" and "safe" for those i love, thus becoming more dangerous to those who would do ill, and a lively imagination and mischievousness that always brings a taste of spice to the tongue.

The Return...

i apologize one and to all for my absence... my return from the luxorious mountains of South America was met with the ravishing demons of necessity and labor... that and a dying plant that my friend didn't know i had, and therefore never watered during my absence.

i started rehearsals for a theatre production on the night of my return. The show is Heaven Can Wait; the movies Heaven Can Wait and Here Comes Mr Jordan are both based on the play. My role is Joe, a good-natured, saxophone playing boxer. My squad at work wants to come see it...

"Sarg, can i have the next two nights off?"
"What for?"
"I'm in a theatre production."
"What's the show?"
"Heaven Can Wait."
"Isn't that the show about the boxer?"
"Yes, Sarg, it is."
"And what part do you play?"
"The boxer."
"Hm..." as he puts down his paperwork, "must be the featherweight division."

"Hey, man, can i get some tickets to you threatre show?"
"No, Larry, its ok, you really don't need to come."
"No, seriously. Because i need a good laugh."
"Really, you don't need to come."
"You could act like James Earl Jones... you could outshine Brad Pitt, but i'll still sit in the back and laugh my ass off watching you play a boxer."
"Thank you, Larry... hope you don't need a backer on any of your calls tonight."

Show opens tonight... if my squad mates actually show up like they are threatening... think i might need to go on stage armed.

In other news... work has been unusually busy. Also had my first jury trial testimony the other day. After two years i finally get to testify in something other than a prelim. Majority of my cases settle out of court. Some openings have come up in detective division and the SOT team (our version of SWAT). Don't have the time on required for the positions, but applying anyway so they at least know my name for the future.

Well, Santiago was beautiful... left a piece of my heart behind. It is good to be back home however. i had to hook up an IV to my plant to bring it back to life. Oh, and i forget to mention, i got reprimanded by the US Customs Agent coming back into the country for bringing home so many bottles of wine. Let me keep it, thankfully. That was a heavy carry on bag. Pictures will follow...