Prettier Women and an Average life

It was a normal life

Writing about the extraordinary would’ve been a lie

I didn’t know that part of existence

It didn’t seem real

Like a myth

A myth I was supposed to believe in

I had been poor

I lived 20 miles away from my childhood home

I’d hardly explored

I’d hardly experienced

I’d hardly loved

I’d hardly fucked

I’d hardly grieved

There were a lot of rich whites where I lived now

My childhood town was different

I grew up with diversity

But

I left it

I left it for prettier women

I liked living around pretty women

It made it feel like there was possibility everywhere

Possibility to love

Possibility to fuck

Either or was fine with me

My friends were normal

My family was normal

My life was normal

Vanilla

Someone once said that they had expected me to be Vanilla

After meeting me for all of 30 minutes

She went on to say I was spicy

Not vanilla

Whatever that meant

I did feel different

Different than the others my age

I thought differently

I saw the grays

Where everyone else saw black and white

I saw questions

Where others saw answers

I felt like an outcast

A lone survivor

A protector of a type of thinking

The free way of thinking

A warrior of the spirit

The human spirit

The part of myself I believed in

Despite the normal life

Despite the poor life

The uneventful weeks and years

Despite feeling like an outsider

I still felt like I could make it

Somehow

I felt like I could touch the extraordinary

I just had to keep trying

Maybe I was ahead of my time?

The great writers and thinkers usually were

Maybe I was shit though

Maybe I thought too highly of myself

Of my mind

Maybe it was still developing

Still learning

Still exploring

Maybe I needed that life experience?

Well

Fuck it

I was going to keep drinking and keep writing