"Distant dreams of things to be.... wandering thoughts that can’t be free." - Keith Relf
Had looked forward to March 6th for a long time. The day has since come and gone, but I'll never forget the moment when I finally got to lay my eyes on an incredibly beautiful girl named Sarah, who I'd finally gotten to meet that day, or the point-snapping smile on her face when I handed her the white rose that I'd bought for her. I had a great time spending my day with her - the best day I'd spent with a girl in years, now that I really think about it. From her mocha skin to her deep brown eyes to her perfect bone structure to her graceful demeanor, of course I had to work rather hard at not staring down her gorgeous self for too long throughout the day. At some point, I couldn't help but to ask myself in my mind, if maybe she were my life's answer to the gorgeous brown-eyed girl who Bono spoke of in U2's "Sweetest Thing".
Some things remained the same though. I still haven't mastered the art of saying all the right things during a date, it seems, but the true beauty of anything is in the blemishes, isn't it? Either way, there was just something so subliminal about her that made me feel like my life had so much to offer again; as if - for the first time in a very long time - the possibilities were endless once more, in much the same way that a renigged contract might still hold some weight to it years after the fact. I have hopes that something will mutually grow between the two of us in time, but as this blog of mine has witnessed so many times before: I know better than to expect anything set in stone anytime soon. Or anything at all, for that matter.
On another note, my nieces were born last February - two days before I posted the "Immigrant Song" montage. It's been interesting to see my brother transform into a father over the past few weeks, but to his credit, he's made the transition quite fluently despite moving back in with us, here at our grandparent's house, a few weeks ago. He's kept to his schedule and has maintained a harder work ethic than the one he had before his twins were born. I suppose there's much to be said about his character for that.
Much to my surprise, though, in between all of this: My mother and I have bonded over "Game of Thrones" several times ever since I'd bought the DVD set with Sarah the first day it was released. It was a series that I wouldn't have thought was in my mother's taste not too long ago, but life is full of surprises as this year has routinely taught me so far. And somewhere in the midst of that same ether, this winter has brought with it my first time summoned to Jury Duty, the beginning of the end for "In Plain Sight," and the simultaneous return of my friends: One day where Kris and I semi-hilariously got cursed out by a small Mexican woman for bothering what seemed to us, upon first glance, like randomly forgotten steel poles in our beloved M.S. 127's park, and another day where Jason and I hung out in midtown Manhattan the day before his birthday in hopes of meeting Jeffrey Dean Morgan where, as it turned out, we got to meet Danny Huston instead. Fair enough trade, I suppose.
Yes, this winter has come and gone - and, as always, it has brought many things with it - but for the first time that I can think of, it's also brought with it the gift of hope. Spring always returns.
Had looked forward to March 6th for a long time. The day has since come and gone, but I'll never forget the moment when I finally got to lay my eyes on an incredibly beautiful girl named Sarah, who I'd finally gotten to meet that day, or the point-snapping smile on her face when I handed her the white rose that I'd bought for her. I had a great time spending my day with her - the best day I'd spent with a girl in years, now that I really think about it. From her mocha skin to her deep brown eyes to her perfect bone structure to her graceful demeanor, of course I had to work rather hard at not staring down her gorgeous self for too long throughout the day. At some point, I couldn't help but to ask myself in my mind, if maybe she were my life's answer to the gorgeous brown-eyed girl who Bono spoke of in U2's "Sweetest Thing".
Some things remained the same though. I still haven't mastered the art of saying all the right things during a date, it seems, but the true beauty of anything is in the blemishes, isn't it? Either way, there was just something so subliminal about her that made me feel like my life had so much to offer again; as if - for the first time in a very long time - the possibilities were endless once more, in much the same way that a renigged contract might still hold some weight to it years after the fact. I have hopes that something will mutually grow between the two of us in time, but as this blog of mine has witnessed so many times before: I know better than to expect anything set in stone anytime soon. Or anything at all, for that matter.
On another note, my nieces were born last February - two days before I posted the "Immigrant Song" montage. It's been interesting to see my brother transform into a father over the past few weeks, but to his credit, he's made the transition quite fluently despite moving back in with us, here at our grandparent's house, a few weeks ago. He's kept to his schedule and has maintained a harder work ethic than the one he had before his twins were born. I suppose there's much to be said about his character for that.
Much to my surprise, though, in between all of this: My mother and I have bonded over "Game of Thrones" several times ever since I'd bought the DVD set with Sarah the first day it was released. It was a series that I wouldn't have thought was in my mother's taste not too long ago, but life is full of surprises as this year has routinely taught me so far. And somewhere in the midst of that same ether, this winter has brought with it my first time summoned to Jury Duty, the beginning of the end for "In Plain Sight," and the simultaneous return of my friends: One day where Kris and I semi-hilariously got cursed out by a small Mexican woman for bothering what seemed to us, upon first glance, like randomly forgotten steel poles in our beloved M.S. 127's park, and another day where Jason and I hung out in midtown Manhattan the day before his birthday in hopes of meeting Jeffrey Dean Morgan where, as it turned out, we got to meet Danny Huston instead. Fair enough trade, I suppose.
Yes, this winter has come and gone - and, as always, it has brought many things with it - but for the first time that I can think of, it's also brought with it the gift of hope. Spring always returns.
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