Thank You

I have to thank you. I have to thank you for listening. For giving yourself to me for three minutes. For sacrificing that little bit of life, so that I may be heard. These words and curbed thoughts are brought forth in a neat package and are ready for distribution. And if all I should get in return is a sense of disapproval, I have to thank you ten fold for that. For I have to thank anyone that ever spit doubt in my face. Whom ever shed a sense of disgrace in my mind. To the good doctor for feeding me line after line about how I will amount to no more than grime jockeying registers of commercial wasteland. For without his disbanded compassion of me as a person, I may never have learned just how wrong he was.

I have to thank anyone that ever ridiculed my attempts to bring my talents to life. For without them I would not be here expressing my truth and talking to you. And you should thank them too, unless of course I am a waste of your three minutes, then let this be the end of our conference call. If my intensity is too much for you to handle at the moment, then do not let me keep you, disperse. For I do not see my failed attempts as a curse but a blessing in disguise. Surprised may be the feeling coming up inside, as I say once more, thank you.

Thanks be to those who ever doubted I could, for you bear the weight of that burden for me. And if you sit before me, perplexed, like who does this gringo think he is? Then I say thank you.

I have to thank everyone that beat my ass in high school. Nah, I'm not ashamed to admit it. Yes I got beat with sticks and bricks, and to those people who broke glass and fists over my head, I give you nothing but gratitude, for without them, invincibility would have been the weakness that found me...dead.

And to the alcoholic English teacher, whose perpetual inebriation loosened her insult spewing tongue, I say thank you. Not because intoxication brought forth the eradication of half of my confidence, but because of the journey I embarked upon gaining it back. If I lacked anything once before, I gained it infinitely along the way, all because someone said it couldn't be.

Who does he think he is? He's from shit town New York where you get three girls pregnant and never leave home. And yet here I am three thousand miles away from no where. Embracing your doubt like a savior among peasants, because that gives me the presence of mind to strap shoes to my feet and walk a path the best I can. And if I never live up to your expectations, then I know there is no limit to the world of my creations.