What Century Are We In Anyway?

A bit late, yes; but at least I haven't forgotten.
Happy Holidays from Saint George's Island!

And so another year has gone.

In four short hours, at 12:00 midnight, the world will usher in 2010.

In any event, I thought I'd breifly blog on the idea of change, but in reality, I do not feel like it.

My birthday is four short hours away, and though I promised to be a recluse for a month,

I figured that would be a terrible way to usher in the new year and to celebrate my birthday.

And also because I seem to have writers block today. 

So the hell with it.

I decided rather to touch on the wisdom of great men from the past.

I finally thought of a quote which I think captures the spirit of change entirely

[it was also the quote I used when I ran for VP in SGA].

It never gets old.

"We Must Be The Change We Wish To See."

-Mahatma Gandhi.


Happy 2010!

Another Reason To Live In Europe

                                           The Female Version (Victoria's Secret)

                                                             The Male Version

                                                                 The Parody

P.S. I love how no one seems phased.

Me, Myself, and I

In a drastic, and quite desperate need of change, and partly to usher in the new year with a spirit of revitalization and transformation, I have taken the initiative of squashing unsettled and petty beef with my peers; apologizing to my professors for late papers and unnumerable class absences; seeking forgiveness for past transgressions...and shaving my head!

Yezzir, I am now sporting the shiny bald head, along with the trimmed-up beared [starts off skinny at my earlobes and expands much thicker] with a 5:00 o'clock shadow; it's quite Common-esque,actually and I'm diggin it.

But perhaps more news worthy, or blog worthy, is my random decision to go into hibernation shortly after Christmas. The idea came up when I was talking to a friend, that I wanted to just get on a plane and fly in whatever direction the fates pointed me towards. Well, I am now truley entertaining the idea. Come December 28th [ can't miss the Giants game on Sunday night footaball] I am flying towards the unknown for a month of what I hope to be self-reflection, meditation, and discovery. No technology. No designer fashion. No posse. No family. No contact.

Just me, myself, and I.

I am a ball of anxiety at the thought of going through with this adventure,
but I am definitley looking forward to it.
Wish me a safe travel.

Arrivederci!

En Attendant Meux...

When I think of what we could of had,
I curl myself into a ball, under cold sheets.
And with eyelids shut behind salty tears,
I drown myself to sleep.



Patrick J.

Waking Up in Italy

When I finally open my eyes she is still here,
staring back at me.
Her morning hair is sprawled out on one of my pillows.
Wild.
Untamed.
Yet, so perfectly placed. Every strand.
She is studying my face.
She squints and smiles,
as if my life story were scripted on my face.
"Buon giorno bello."
She whispers so softly that I almost miss the words.
We make love again that morning.

We cook breakfast next. Together.
She is in my large t-shirt.
I am in nothing at all.
Covered only in her sweet kisses.

The scent of cornettos glazed heavy in honey and chocolate,
eggs cooked golden brown with soft buttery bread.
Fresh milk and biscottis...the aroma invades every crevice of the house.
I have coffee.
She has tea.
We stare at each other across the table in silence.
Simply smiling.
Holding hands.
Her feet reaching for mine under the table.
We wash the dishes in more silence with John Legend singing in the background.

Then barefeet we walk along the beach that same chilly morning.
The euphoric waves crash upon the shore as if mocking the blood pumping through my viens.
And still barefeet,
hand in hand we walk the Italian countryside.
Both.
Still silent.

Patrick J.