Today.

I numb the pain I have by drowning in my sorrow,
If only there was a way I could change this heart of mine, I would beg, steal or borrow.

I think of you each and everyday,
Though the light I once had in my heart has all but turned to grey.

Your face appears in my dreams each and every night,
Something I struggle with as I never wanted to fight.

I pray for the day that you will finally let me speak,
It's the only hope I have right now, given that things look ever so bleak.

My love for you will never wane,
As sad as this may be, I understand that we will never ever be together again.

One door closes and another opens or so they say,
The time has come for me to start this new life, a new life which begins on this very day.

(In)security.

I could do with one of these right about now...

I am not sure when it happened, or even why or how it happened. It just did. I guess one day I woke up, looked in the mirror and didn't like what I see. That was around twenty years ago now. Things do get better I guess, or maybe we just get lazy with loving ourselves, we kind of accept that this may just be "as good as it gets" and that "our prime has been and gone and forget to say thanks and goodbye". Any which way, it just ain't there anymore.

Then one day you fall in love. Sure, it has happened before, you have loved and lost in love, but for some reason this feels different. Or is it? Maybe the fear of being alone is what is setting in and you hurriedly try to find someone, anyone, to fill that void that you so desperately need to fill, the void of plain and simply, being loved. It's scary beyond belief.

All those emotions and feelings of self worth start to come flooding back. Every little flaw (and not so little) becomes highlighted as if someone is permanently following you with a strobe light reminding you of why you just aren't good enough. You decide that you need to focus on the gym and have a good two weeks to lose say, twenty kilograms. Crazy. You buy every vitamin on the shelf to ensure your skin is glowing, hair is shiny and teeth are as white as the most beautiful pearl that adorned your Grandma's neck. Then reality hits. You walk past that damn mirror again and it just doesn't lie to you, why can't it just lie to you one time, just one damn time. It's me I see, nothing or nobody else, just me.

The eyes start to well up. I need to move away, right away, what am I going to do now? I go back to the mirror and disrobe, completely naked in front of the mirror, fuck I hate what I see, I really do. But I am not going to let this beat me. Again. How did I get to this place of self loathing and why can I not, just for the life of me replace that "L" word with another one, Love. It's all good, I'm going to go out, I'm in a foreign city, I'm going to hit the streets and see, live and meet people. Yep, that's what I'm going to do.

I do that. I end up in Central Park. There are squirrels all around me, they are so cute and seem to love me, coming right up to me to take the peanuts out of my hand. They just see me as someone with food, not scared or grossed out in any way what so ever. Then a man starts talking to me, he seems nice enough. The usual banter ensues, I explain where I am from, where I am going to next and yada, yada, yada. He asks me if I am single? A kind of random question I guess, I start to stand up and respond with "well, there is beautiful man I like in Brazil, its complicated, but I will be seeing him soon and..." He cuts me off. "Right" he says. I said, "Sorry?". He went silent and said the following "I guess for a Brazilian you would be good, you have that chunky/chubby kind of body they seem so fond of. I'm sorry, I only saw you squatting down and your beautiful face. Have a nice evening". He almost ran away, I kid you not. WOW.

I literally had no words, nor did I have any tears. I don't know if I was even shocked, more saddened that this same story seems to circulate every so often in my life and I am just not sure why. I may not like what I see in the mirror at home, but I sure as hell don't walk around with my head between my legs, I try to "fake till I make it" for like of a better term. So why the hell would someone come up to me and say that? Or maybe I am just completely oblivious to the fact that my community really is just that superficial, that it is ONLY about your body and nothing else and you can't have a "beautiful face" and not the body to match. That is suposedly just to fucked up for anyone to understand. What has it all come too?

I guess we all have our own demons, but it doesn't help when others push their insecurities onto you, especially when we are all just looking for that one thing in life, to walk past that mirror just once in our lives and stop, acknowledge the reflection and say "I really like what I see today, actually I love what I see". One day, one day...

The mirror has two faces?

2am in New York and I'm still writing...

So here I am. It's nearly 2am on a Thursday morning in Manhattan and I am wide awake contemplating life and how I can solve all of its problems. Then I thought about conversations I have had of late, one in particular on what YOU see when you look into a mirror has really dumb founded me.

I'm a sucker for a beautiful smile and beautiful eyes, I mean who isn't? My heart melts when someones genuine and beautiful smile is given to me, it makes my heart stop and sends me to a place that I could only liken to what we call heaven. Given all this, it really knocked me for a six when someone special in my life told me that they didn't like what they saw when they looked in the mirror.

Sure, I don't like what I see, but I am tall, slightly overweight and kind of goofy. But this person, this person has a smile that could warm the coldest of hearts, eyes that just have that sparkle in them that makes you remember to live and a body that anyone would kill for. Yet, he told me he didn't like what he saw when he looked in the mirror. I don't get it? Does his mirror have two faces? If so, I want to see what he is seeing, surely it can't be what I see, right?

I mean I go out and get told things like "You are cute, but need to lose weight". Sigh. I actually asked one guy, "Do you a) think I am blind and b) that I don't have a mirror in my home?". No response. So when I see or hear amazingly beautiful people like this person (and many others) telling me that they don't like what they see, it really makes me question what have we done in society where so many of us seem to feel that we have fallen below par somewhere, and in some cases, everywhere. Do muscles equate to a fantastic personality? Does a D cup perfect and perky set of breasts equal a heart of gold and a Phd? Sure, there are people, there must be people with these attributes that society seems to hold so dear, that are truly amazing on every level, but what about those people that don't have those superficial qualities that are held with such great esteem? Are they any less of a contributor to our societies and god forbid, less attractive?

So I fell asleep contemplating all these things and then awoke to read the following from the very person I had been talking to about the above just a few hours beforehand. It goes something like this:

Good morning!
Look in the mirror now, what do you see reflected in it?
If it's disappointment, say: Holy shit, this can't be me!
If sorrow, say: son of a bitch Mirror, I do not accept this reflection!
If lack of motivation say: I can do, damn it!
Rebel, kick the bucket, but please change any reflection that is messing up your twinkle in your eye and only accept the view of a reflected image of self-love, you never stop saying: beautiful Mirror!

So there you have it. Maybe all it takes is a good rest, a chat with someone and maybe a new mirror. That, or you just woke up and realised that the reflection that is looking back at you is absolutely and utterly perfect in every single way, perceived and imaginary flaws and all.

Let's all try and work towards to the latter...

If I could have anything...

The looks will mature over time, that's cool, you just have to be the best version of yourself at this very point in time. Nothing wrong with wanting to look good, to love what YOU see in the mirror.

What I want in my life in the future is someone that loves the look of me that he sees NOW, and then learns to love the look that he sees as the seasons change and so do we. To always remember that the real attraction comes from deep within, the ability to make each other smile, laugh, trust and love, love each other until the ends of the earth and back. To celebrate each others imperfections, what ever they may be and maybe, just maybe, turn those imperfections into the very things that set us apart from others.

To hold each others hands as we make the biggest steps in life and to also hold them when we are struggling to keep that very grip. To wake up in the morning and roll over and see someone that makes your heart stop, just for that split second. Reminding you on how truly beautiful life is, being loved, smelling the skin of someone that  only has that familiar smell unique to him, the one you have grown to love and yearn for when you are apart. But most importably, to be able to say to that person, "You are my best friend, my partner, my love".

One day, one day....

Dreams. I really hope these ones DON'T come true...

I'm pretty sure Patti had this hair on before things started to get real.

Ok, so I had two really strange dreams last night, the first had me jumping out of my sleep and the second racing to the bathroom.

The first one involved me, Patti LaBelle and her recent move to Australia. She found me via my blog (as they do) and said she needed to be hooked up with a place to stay, a hair salon and some soulful people to hang with. Things were going great until we went out one night and when she requested that the DJ play "Lady Marmalade", well, lets just say she was shut down and told to find some singles club for that "old music". The next part of the dream was where I jumped out of my sleep, she got angry, real angry and took her wig off. That's when I woke up. I couldn't bare to see her in a hair net.

The second one was where I was at a function of some kind and some older Jewish dentist (yes, I go into great detail even in my dreams) loved my smile and wanted to give me a free check up. Conveniently, his practice was only a lift ride down and he felt the party was boring, so what better thing to do to try and break things up? Give some random an oral once over.

After my visit to the Jewish dentist (not sure why he was Jewish to be honest, maybe I have the guilt's for not doing anything for Chanukah this year and it ended on my Oma's birthday. Coincidence much?) We headed back to the party, where as per usual I was drinking and dancing up a storm. Half way through a very detailed dip in "Proud Mary" a tooth came flying out. I found it and put it in my pocket and resumed with the routine. Always the consummate professional here, especially where Tina Turner is concerned. Before the night was out, I had lost three more with the final one being a moler with a mini x-ray inside it. The Dentist told me that I had some weird "tooth falling out disease", yes that was the term he used. Needless to say, I jumped out of my sleep to check my teeth. All good.

Even when I am sleeping I am over thinking... Weird, weird man I am.

Love.

"Love is not perfect, but it can be the most beautiful thing if both people are completely equal and honest with each other."

Time.

The time is flying. Literally.

It feels just like yesterday that I was sitting at home creating a video in celebration of my impending ten year anniversary. That was over a year ago now. I looked at that video the other day, the feelings are different now, not in a bad way, just different. That's time for you I guess.

Now, I find myself hurriedly packing my life away into lifeless boxes, trying to work out what clothes to bring with me, do I go for the larger or smaller sizes? I am trying so hard to conquer these demons that seem to manifest themselves via food. So hard. What do I bring with me? I mean I am coming back, right? I guess again, only time will be able to tell me that and right now she is saying enjoy.

This path that we tread everyday, alone, together, indifferent to the one in front of you and always looking to see who is behind you, is exciting, scary and unknown. I often find myself watching people walking, running, intense, solemn, laughing, talking into their phones as they go about their day, all the while wondering if we share that path, at least for just a minute at some point in our lives. Sometimes, I even get up to walk a few steps behind them, to see if that exact path means anything to me. I guess my experiences will be just that, mine.

It takes strength and courage to get up and move, or so I've been told. I see it as a new chapter, a part of a book that has a loose draught, but I must create the final copy, sometimes re visiting certain pages to change the things I don't like, to correct the mistakes that I overlooked when I was tired or just simply couldn't be bothered. The pages keep turning, some days its a struggle to get through just one and others, well, the pages are filled with excitement, passion and juicy plots that before you know it, the chapter is complete and needs no absolutely no changes.

So if my life is a book, a metaphor for where I have been, what I am doing and where I am going, I am just going to take each page as it comes. To read each word with vigour, to devour the salacious plots that may happen, to cry when the sad parts arrive and to always allow myself to fall in love and be completely swept up in all my story has to offer. After all, that's all we really have, some fantastic stories to hopefully look back on, that only time will be able to tell us.