THISLIFEWELOVESOMUCH

I love to ride my bike.  If I can’t ride my bike I’ll walk.  Sometimes, just sometimes I smell something.  It’s weird.  It’s not that fresh cut grass smell, or that cold fall air...no it’s something different.  When I smell it my brain malfunctions.  I get taken to this place in my past for fractions of a fraction of a second.  A place, that deep down I want to run away to.  I know it’s impossible, but there is such beauty there that I can only stop and try and find ways to recreate that in my life now. I’d love to ignore this, but I’m stubborn...I can’t help but feel that life is a million different currents pushing us in every direction.  What I can tell you for certain, is that no matter what you believe in, this is a game.  We all get one life, and we get to play it a million different ways.  The thing people forget the most is that we have one shot at this bitch. We may be on the roller coaster, but we can decide how much we get to yell.

I have 3 ideas I want to write about.  The first, which will be the beginning of this story, is how life as a child equals something bigger than most people grasp.  Second I’d like to study greatness.  I’d like to know the habits of people who I feel have lived their lives to the fullest, and lastly I’d love to find out what it takes to become who I was meant to be.  We all come from different walks of life, and situations, but I ask if you came this far to take this walk with me.  If anything, I’ll make you laugh a few times.

Silvadhino 1

Lets start from the beginning.  These are the memoirs of my life.  They are sensationalized.  They are absurd, and at many times not quite true, but always rooted in the heart of my experience.  We like to think we are special, and when we realize in the scheme of this world we aren't we get so fucking sad.  I’m starting to realize that this is bullshit.  If anything ,hell, if I had to make one grand bet it would be that we can all draw upon experiences growing up and find a common ground. The fact that all people are so much alike makes me feel happy. I’d be depressed if I had a “special” life. Instead I shared the collective power of existence of growing up.

I found that time changes dramatically as you grow up.  I mean, hours, minutes, seconds...they all stay the same right?   It’s funny though.  Time seemed to move very slow when I was young.  I grew up in Yonkers, NY.  I had a short stint in Brooklyn, and I only bring that up to get me street cred at bars sometimes.  But the reality was my entire life began on a small block in a suburb outside new york city.  So Here is my entire life.  This 3 bedroom apartment, a backyard and about ¼ miles of road in each direction.  There was no internet, and I got a nintendo at my 7th birhtday.

  The summer was fucking electric...