Stevi's Storied Life

Howzit (millennial chat slang for 'how is it')--how is it that I can dream of buying a plot of land and building a tiny house where I'll plant a vegetable garden and grow herbs to make my own organic meals and fancy soaps I could gift and sell--but then I can watch a film set in New York and fantasize about living there as a writer? Then, at the same time, in the real world, all signs are pointing to finally living my age old dream of being a singer in a soulful rock band with a hint of folksy twang and a dash of funky blues? What does that even sound like? I'll let you know when I figure that out. Indecision has plagued me since I can remember. Which school should I attend? What should I major in? Which classes should I sign up for? Who should I date? What should I wear? What do I want to eat? Which route should I take? The guys from Boston told me not to worry or care about it, but they obviously pressed on and became a successful rock band. https://youtu.be/y-epOG...

My Earth Shoes keep me grounded. I used to think them ugly, but no-- They're simple, rounded, unfettered Light brown leather stitched to Soft, supportive soles, which offer Comfort for my arches and callused Heels and balls, Grecian monkey toes. The second one is longer than the Big one. They say that means I am Domineering, as does my day of birth. I suppose the stars have in mind a Leadership role, but I do not yet know Where it is I should next roam. Shall I bloom where I'm planted or Follow where the wind blows? I am Earth. I appear to be Air-- I have a fiery wit but the Water Calms my spirit, sometimes into Complacency. In my Earth Shoes, I feel at home Here at a table in a cafe, not far from My address. I feel no whims to take Flights of fancy, go downtown, or the Airport to hop a flight to where? Who knows. I don't have enough money anyway. I have three dollars and some coins I'm Consciously collecting because of the Year. I found ...

Lately, my mantra has been "stop saying words." After all, they're just symbols we use to communicate these unseen conceptual idea type thingies that someone else has probably already come up with better words for, or done it in such a way that makes more sense, takes less time to absorb, less effort even. They usually end up getting us in trouble, especially when we say too many or not enough, or the wrong ones, or even the right ones in the wrong way. I've been reading the Tao. According to the Tao, we should not always be talking. This is Sage wisdom, y'all. For true. We need to listen to others. If we don't, what's the point in this entire thing we call the world and all the other folks in it? If you think you already know everything, go ahead and do us all a favor and leave so the rest of us can pay attention. Or you know, maybe help us out, if you're so wise. I'm guilty of not listening. Oh so guilty. I'm not hating because we all go ...

I promise a heartfelt story of fishing next time...plus thoughts on The Old Man and the Sea...but for now, this is all I got. https://plus.google.com/+SteviAlsdorf/posts/epe8TERrXa3

https://plus.google.com/+SteviAlsdorf/posts/GWQ96RHCFCF https://plus.google.com/+SteviAlsdorf/posts/UVupENoNWEj It's a 2 parter because I had to pee.

https://plus.google.com/u/0/+SteviAlsdorf/videos?pid=6180659719213819186&oid=111863865068159610676

It's amazing what a good sleep will do for your outlook. You fall asleep miserable and wake up, forgetting why exactly, because the sun's shining, the tunes are swimming through your stock speakers, and you're flying down the highway, full faith in the four dollars' worth of fumes you fed your whip you affectionately refer to as Wanda (the Honda) because you know she's got another thirty miles left in her once that light comes on. She's basically your home and your best friend for all intents and purposes because she asks you no questions and tells you no lies. She loves it when you pump up the jams full blast, windows down, shamelessly fist pumping and signing out the sunroof to pop songs, directing the symphony of the road with your left hand, your cigarette a burning baton. You fancy yourself the director of this symphony you call your life. Your life's been good to you, but you've seen more than your fair share of the shit times. Still, when you...

Yeah.  That's pretty much it. I don't know why I still care at all.  I really don't.  I've list my gumption to even smoke cigarettes.  Wake me up when this shit is over. I thought maybe just MAYBE tonight would be special.  It's a blue moon.  I think I just need to move somewhere ni one knows knows my name and start over. I'm tired. I'm hurt. I'm broken down. I spent half half my life believing a lie. I'm such a fucking idiot. If some folks didn't didn't love didn't love me I'd probably just end it all. The fear of the possibility of repeating the same goddamn thing all over again holds me back more than anything. I'm officially done feeling. I'm an ice queen now. Frigid bitch. Fuck off, everyone! Not really. It's not your fault. I push all my friends away.  I can't care about anyone the way they deserve and nobody else cares for me the way I need them to. Caring is Ceeepy. Yay Shins. If I felt like farting, I'...

The best ideas are stolen and improved upon.  I won't claim that my understanding of the universe is better than Einstein's or yours,  whatever you may subscribe to, if you even care to conceptualize what is. I'm more of a philosopher than a physicist, so that being said, my take on this equation will not necessarily make sense in a scientific or mathematical way. Everything is connected. People forget that.  There are three universal languages in this world and none are spoken.  Music,  math,  and art, and they're really all one in the same. How can numbers be art,  you ask? Or music? For one thing,  they're beautiful solely for the fact that they cannot lie,  unless they're being used as a statistic. Still,  it's the person manipulating them who's the liar.  Steve Goodman once said,  "Sixty-five percent of statistics are made up on the spot." Apparently one in eight people has HIV and doesn't know it.  AIDS is a ...

I've decided that I'm the female version of Dean from Supernatural due to my affinity for bars and diners meets Archer because of my endearing-to-some, unapologetically narcissistic mask I wear to hide the fact that I actually have feelings sometimes. Don't catch the feels. They'll eat you alive if you don't know yourself well enough to maintain. Actually,  I just want to bang the live action ideal of Archer. The juke here at this legit 50s style Denny's sings, "When you're happy like a fool/ Let it take you over...You gotta take it in/ This is gonna be a good life." These days my favorite music is shamelessly happy pop. I've listened to enough depressingly wrist-slash-worthy music during my life. Of course,  I am far too vain to ever sever them,  but it was always a pleasure to burn.  I'm through burning for anything else. I've made it through the proverbial wilderness.  Mmm Maroon 5. He was so high he did not recognize. Oh. He did....