this present day here and now society
is an impairment to this very idea of waiting. what are we waiting for?
information is literally at the tips of our fingertips. we have come from
ink & pen, pony express, pigeon letters, telegrams, the radio, telephones,
and so on an so forth.
we had to physically write our thoughts down, package them and in time the
receipt would receive the important or non-important information.
however, today we don’t even have to press buttons, everything is
virtually accessible with the slight presence and swipe our our greasy
little fingers.
weather, sports, news, tv, social media, reservations, reminders, alarms,
notes, task-lists, games, instant messaging, email, web surfing, and so on
are all immediately accessed.

we are not patient as a society. when was the last time we were OK with
waiting at a red light, spending more than five waiting for our food,
spending time in a meeting or service without planning our first moments
after dismissal.
for me it has been a while.

for me patience may be the single most important thing that i have learned
this past year.

waiting for the important issue to surface to have patience in knowing
that God has a plan for me and that I do not need to be in control of
every little aspect.

we all need to learn that a watched pot will eventually boil, yet it will
take time. and not to bring you any astonishment but one thing that all
men posses is; time.

ciao.

A puddle that is driven through, glanced at, forgotten, and covered so others won’t have to bother with me. The sky doesn’t want me, neither does the ground. A puddle is stagnant, if left long enough, it becomes intolerable and completely unwanted. It is jumped over as the water mixes with dirt and it’s scrapped of the sidewalks from busy men clearing the walkways so more can walk by wondering nothing about the puddles around them. Sometimes we all feel like puddles. Just sitting there, wanting to become part of something bigger, a pond, a lake, and heaven forbid!, the ocean. But, we sit and wish we could move, go, soak in or just return back to the sky from which we came. Never is it the same, never is it easy to flow when your puddled.  We sit and believe we are totally ambiguous to the world, but, have we forgotten ourselves, those who love us, who need us. Oh, how  shallow can we be?

The man sitting at the bus station gets off the bus and begins his walk across the lawn with his dog. We are there, we are there to be lapped up for cool drink in the middle of a humid afternoon. We are there for busy feathers to wash off the hard work of the day feeding the nest. We are there to cast reflections into the busy streets. We are there for the innocent boots of tiny feet to jump in. We are there to be splashed, sometimes to cause a fury, but other times to spread laughter and cheer. Yes, we are by ourselves sitting still, but, we are there, a puddle, needed, and wanted by the simplest of pleasures.

Sometimes I feel like a puddle.

It’s been a while since my last post which is a sad and ironic thing for my last post talks about me apologizing for not writing as much and that I was planning on writing at least once a week. I didn’t even do that. I however, find myself today sitting in front of my computer with itchy fingers. Not the type of itch that can be cured by a scratch but the type that can only be swooned by the execution of an activity or purposeful reaction to a movement.
I feel as if I am a bottle filled to the brim wanting to spill out all my thoughts but there is a lid preventing me from saying anything at all. How do I/We get this lid off?  How do I/We get pass this mental writers block? This block of creativity. I feel like a complainer, a wishy washy no good grumbler who wallows in self driven indifference. I hate the feeling of being unsure especially when I don’t ask for it. (I don’t know why I would ask for it in the first place.) But, yet it comes, it digs in then I have to fight it, understand it, and then live my life in order to not worry and allow greater hands and works to carry me in peace and liberation.
The matter that concerns me the most is my flavor and unwrinkled participation with the art of words. I would not call myself a poet or a lyricist, yet, I know what people want to hear and how to say things that would be mouthwatering treats if only they were edible. However, I do pride myself in being able to say that I do not use my words to manipulate for my own gain, at least I hope I don’t. However, I feel that when I say what I say, I say it in the upmost genuine tones and agendas that I possibly can offer. But I still am concerned.
Maybe I should step back and say that I am not entirely concerned with my use of words yet I am concerned with my use of words in correspondence to my emotions. I let my emotions pilot the vessel (myself) entirely way too much. The vessel shifts and casts out movements (words) at times when these movements (words) should not have surfaced. But, I must declare that this does not mean I do not mean what I say yet I just don’t filter how or when I should utter these sounds.
This is the case with more than just relationships, but with hobbies, friendships, family, my career, and personal self worth. I would not as so much sit here and scold myself for this but to learn from it. I am however, in the long run only a human and in my human nature and unique personality I can only work on, shape, and strive to better my concerns to the point that they are understandable and acceptable.
If in reading this you have said to yourself, “I do the same.” Then I am encouraged and in this you should be encouraged for it is not a thing to be ashamed about yet a thing that should be understood and learned to deal with responsibly. Again, if in reading this you have found yourself thinking about a time that I or anyone else has allowed their emotions monitor their art of words, then I apologize for myself and for everyone else who is in my position.
In response to my itchy fingers and my strive to get past the lid, I am excited to practice the art of words and share more and more post with you.

ciao… Anthony

They say if you do something in repetition for 20 some days it become habit and the task of writing a blog every day for 370 days did in fact become a habit. I would go to bed thinking about what I would write tomorrow or about the great blog that I had wrote a few hours earlier. 

But, this habit became daunting as it felt more like a drilled responsibility than a time to reflect and put the day into words. There were times where I would fully hate the fact that I had to set aside time to spill my thoughts and emotions. I struggled with this. Time and time again I set things too high for myself thinking that I am more than I am but reality is that I am only a man. I tire and become weary of the mundane, not saying that blogging everyday was mundane, but it only added at times to the mediocrity of life at the time. 

I feel as though I would come to the computer, check my email, scan the facebook, and then get ready for bed only to remember that I needed to blog. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to but the fact that I had nothing to say. I felt like I was short changing the few who read my blog everyday. This is why I feel as though I owe you all an apology, I am sorry for the lack of consistency and for the apathy that came to be with this blog. I aim to turn this around and not write everyday, but to write at least once or twice a week. I hope all is well. stay golden (believe) DiFabio

Today was a good day. Went and saw a party band called Professor D downtown Wylie.

1. Paying ridiculous bills: insurance, rent, electricity, car payment and so on….it’s a total drag.

2. Having to wake up early every day: That’s just me being lazy.

3. Planning for the future: I hate planning what I am going to eat for dinner let alone figuring out where I am going to be in 5 years.

4. Losing my metabolism: no body likes getting fat….

5. Appointments: Having to meet up with people to talk about important things…..

6. Having to get over not like numbers 1 – 5

ciao…

After coming home we worked in the backyard removing a fence post and replacing it with a new metal one. It did’t take long but since the sun was beating down on us our energy was zapped pretty quick.

It is so interesting to think about the wonders of earth. Like about how I didn’t do a ton of work yet the sun zapped my energy as if I were working out side for a solid 12 hours. I need to wear sunscreen too..

ciao…

We all fell asleep pretty fast. It was a good ole day.

ciao…