my tees

Oh, my plain white tees, my poor delicate white tee shirts,

how you have suffered just as I have the staggering heat of summer,

and the informalities that come with such conditions, a bare stain of human odor,

perspiration and labour, an early sunshine yellow poking through the clouds,

my poor white tees, enduring the contrast of oil, of dirt, of soot.

of dirty and wet hands when there are no more paper towels,

of a face washed and rewashed, of time and grime

my poor white tees, how you have served me well

just to be some plain white tees, i thank you.

See...

It's been a while since I've written, sat down and reflected on whatever it is I am doing, plan to do or want to do.  I come to realize that after these short 22 years, that I have accomplished little to no effect anything I can say that I am proud enough to boast about nor sing to every person I meet whom I can gain their influence.  I've traveled a bit and it hasn't changed me a bit, I've driven, and walked and gotten lost along the way and sure, my navigation skills have been sharpened a bit, my openness for cultural differences have spanned wider, and my ability to stand aside and act as an observer in this beautiful world have evolved tenfold as I continue in this existence.  The travel bug has caught me again and it seems that it has no rationale of when and where I should be, but I should be moving at a deliberately steady walk along concrete, and gravel.  I've talked about this picturesque journey for months on end, to strangers I barely know and to dear friends I've rediscovered again and again.  My heart is still not up to the challenge nor my wallet.  But I have been trying, mind those insignificant distractions that have been able to hinder me such as money, time and family.  I can't wait to be the biggest badass you'll ever meet.