Different strokes, for different folks and so on and so on...

At work the other day I was completing a lease with an incoming group of tenants. While they were starting various utility services in their name, I left my office to write out a receipt for their pro-rated rent. I forgot that I had left my cell phone on my desk with my ringer volume on...

"This is why I'm hot, this is why I'm hot! This is why, this is why, this is why I'm hot! I'm hot 'cuz I'm fly..."

Yup, those profound words rang loud and clear and sent me scurrying back into my office to grab my phone and silence Mims. What came out of my mouth next, I don't know why...

"It's a stupid ringtone."

One clever young man stated, "You can't spell 'crap' without it."

I left my office annoyed by his line and perplexed as to why I said what I said. Now that song is by no means legendary, but I do enjoy it when I'm "shaking a leg"--as my mom would say. So why, why did I say that? More than likely it's because the threesome (get your mind out of the gutter) were more so a "rocker" crowd. Punk, alternative, what have you. (I can't keep up with labels and I don't really care to, actually. They just distance us from one another.) Perhaps I wanted to be viewed as cool, or something of the likes... What is that?! Who cares what I rock out to?

I don't understand this obligation to edit myself to fit into some category. I don't know why I feel this need to explain myself to strangers. Deep down I don't care, but yet on the surface it escapes me... I try to find the common ground between myself and others in order to relate, but finding those threads that unite us doesn't mean I need to cut the loose strands where we differentiate. The differences don't divide us by any means. The differences tie us to more and more people and create a big, beautiful, diverse web. It's important for me to honor that web of people, to honor my true self...Mims lover and all.

"Don't worry dude, MTV gonna pimp your ride!"

I just do not understand the fascination with "tricking out" vehicles unworthy of being pimped. Example: I saw a Pontiac Aztec with rims.

Excuse me, rims on a Pontiac Aztec? Really? Rims don't go with an Aztec at all. That vehicle is made for the "great outdoors." It even has its own little tricks for the camping life and what not, so by no means are rims necessary on a Pontiac Aztec.

Furthermore, just yesterday I cringed--and okay I admit it, I laughed, I'm guilty--when I came across a Ford Focus all done up. The hatchback "Hocus Focus" had extremely tinted windows, the clear light biznass, and a vented sporty hood. But to top it off, a personalized license plate stated the "obvious." It read, "2 PHAT."

Whhhyyyyy? I just don't get it! Why would you spend more money on a Ford Focus then you need to?! That little hatchback should be deemed "unpimpable" and come with the warning of, "DO NOT TRICK OUT." And don't even get me started on people who buy the plastic spinners from Wal.Mart. The only thing that is worse than that are cars with two plastic spinners. At least buy a complete set! Please, I beg you. Oh, and puh-lease do not paint your car sherbet orange. Here's a good rule of thumb, avoid pastel colors all together. And finally, if possible (and this should be possible) steer clear of spoilers that could double as dining room tables.

Okay, maybe I'm being mean. If pimping your "unpimpable" ride makes you happy, well then, good for you. By all means, be happy. But I can seriously think of better ways to spend money, like donating it to charity, stocking your kitchen with groceries, and buying new shoes. The list goes on. And hey, if you want to spend money on your car, why not just fill up your gas tank, change the oil, wash it, tune it up, rotate the tires... That's money well spent.

I have a dream...?

People often say to believe in your dreams. But then when you share your dream you’re told, “Well that’s unrealistic.”

Excuse me for the lack of better words here… Umm, duh. It’s a dream.

Dreams are supposed to be unrealistic and seemingly unattainable. That’s the beauty of it. That’s the magic. And that’s what makes dreams work. That sense of impossibility is precisely what motivates the dreamer to do what people so foolishly declare cannot be done.

Dreams are your heart’s desires and if you feed those desires there is a satisfaction that cannot be adequately articulated other than to say that there is a sincere feeling of a roaring peace. It’s something of an oxymoron. I guess this feeling is present because the process of attaining a dream brings focus to your life and purpose.

Purpose, meaning to intend. Living life intentionally. Purpose.

The antonym of “purpose” is “indifference,” showing neither interest nor dislike. So to me that means that a life lived without a dream or dreams is a life lived indifferently and that essentially means that you’re not living, but merely existing.

And sadly, that’s me. I do not know what it is I dream of and what it is that my heart desires, what it is yearning for and since I cannot feed it, my heart aches. It’s starving and, currently, I’m wasting away.

When I graduated this past May a General in the United States Air Force delivered a brief, but poignant commencement address. One particular quote stood out to me. He said, “If you don’t dream, you can’t have a dream come true.” At the time I thought I knew me and I thought I knew my dreams. But now not only am I confused, I’m doubtful and I’m becoming one of those fools—one of those people who are dubious of what can be done.

Why? Why can I not will myself to believe and to see the future? Why?

Only I can answer that question and that seriously scares me.