Cigarillos

I’m sitting outside on the porch swing enjoying the spoils of a hot summer day while burnt ashes of my sweet-tasting cigarillo float to the ground.

I have a bottle of Pellegrino that I’m pairing with a sweet riesling, two unread musty-smelling books, and pen and paper.

I feel like I have all the tools I need to achieve my goals and my dreams.

I do consider the books and the cigarillo and the wine all instruments for success. I also have my thoughts and my experiences and my determination at my disposal.

My favorite thing to do most any night is think and observe and then write about my thoughts and observations. However, lately I feel like I can’t truly write about everything I am thinking and feeling and experiencing.

Writing is best when one’s happenings are the motivator. I feel lost in the fact that I’m not going to be able to experience everything that I want to in my life. And I will say that this lost feeling is new to me; I’ve only felt like this recently.

How do you convince your head to master your heart? How can you tell right from wrong when you’re so emotionally invested in something that isn’t exactly the right thing for you?

I know I’m not the first person to feel this way. I’m not the first person to want something that I can’t have, to regret, to feel like I’m missing out. These feelings are human in nature. But that fact doesn’t facilitate being emotionally lost in an unrealistic realm.

At this point I’m just rambling. The wind continues to stifle my cigarillo and I’ve burnt my thumb on the lighter countless times in an attempt to re-ignite. But I’m craving the sweetness and am persistent about smoking this cigar to the end.

Right now, this just seems like the right thing to do.

Sun Memories

The sun is shining as I lay here.

I close my eyes and the blacks of the lids are transformed into purples and oranges and yellows, swirling and dancing in my eyes; their movement energized by the sun.

Aromas and music are often the first evokers of memory. But for me, the sun’s warmth on my bare skin also reminds me of times past.

Summers on the Atlantic coast, spring breaks on the Caribbean Sea. Knee deep in the Aegean. Trips to Sorrento and Capri and Positano; peering down through eighty feet of Mediterranean to the bottom of the Sea, crystal clear.

Experiencing different cultures, speaking new languages, allowing all that is foreign to permeate my mind and forever change my outlook on life.

Embracing the newness that is guided by the heat of the sun.

My younger self – no cares in the world. In love with the idea of life. Aspiring to do everything and nothing at all.

So much changes as you get older. Idealism turns into cynicism and the world ceases to be everything that you thought it could be.

Mistakes aren’t as easily forgiven. A lie can be detrimental. There is no excuse for doing the wrong thing. Carefree sunbathing comes with its own array of having to care and take responsibility.

But today, I’m seventeen again. I’m watching the colors dance while my eyes are closed and I’m reminiscing with myself over all the brilliant moments of the past.

And I’m thankful for every experience that has led me to today.