Waiting For The Wind To Pick Up

It amazes me that yes, I was blind. I was blind to the truth and blinded by the surrounding ignorance and the stupid bliss of capricious youth. I was blinded by the so-called standard and the status whores who were all too driven by the ideas of being cool and popular.I was blind to the pains or the painful truth that there is a great big world out there and that life and all its meanings were bigger than my tiny circles of influence.My life was small and the world was greater in magnitude and more worthy than the local knucklehead friends.Friends . . . I called them friends back then but the word has new meanings to me now. Still, I called them friends who were nothing more than the popular hoodlums who somehow had too much say and influence in my life. It’s not what you did or said; it’s how you did things or how you spoke. It’s not the matter of standing on a corner, it was more the matter of being able to stand cool, like the silent rebel, mysterious and keen and nonchalant about…