Stephen Mejias

It's funny because:
Just as Wes suggested — though I so earnestly try to never hold expectations of any sort, and I talk a lot of smack about never expecting anything from this life, I'm really full of it: I have great expectations, and often scold myself for expecting too much — I figured I must have simply been expecting the magic to come. Or "looking for it," as my mom might say. And you can't go looking for it, she tells me. Because, if you do, you'll never find it.
Whatever, ma.

"John says you need to stop putting women on pedestals."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yes."
"Hmm."

I've been listening for fun. With fun in mind, I mean. And it has been fun. I find myself, sitting there, chasing the sounds across the space in between the speakers. My eyes racing, images forming left and right, too much for me to keep up with.

"Are you listening to the Bee Gees over there, Stephen?"
Silly as it may seem, I take Elizabeth's question quite seriously: "No," I say, "But it does sound a bit like it, huh?"
"Um, yeah."

"Blog up, yet?" asks JA,
on his way out to get a sandwich.

I am overwhelmed by all that I want to share with you. But.

Alright: I've converted.