BARE with it all (Intro to a Romantic Realist's novel)

It's amazing the power of the mind, but what's even more amazing is the power of one's hands.

Gracefully, my fingers caress the smooth, dark surfaces of the letters of this keyboard, taking me into a world created only by reading books, watching television, and fantasizing perfection. Despite the way I tend to stride with my head to the clouds and my spirit even higher, I knew that I could be whoever I wanted to be. I could act the way I wanted to act. I could meet who I wanted to meet. And more importantly, I would do so without serious reprimand or consequence through the internet. Only if I abide by the general rules of being very attentive and less serious about the happenings.

Unfortunately, I totally neglected these two key rules somewhere throughout the years of cyber-play. It was all in fun and ego-exercise until I met him- to be addressed as Mr. X. Too short to be an athlete. Too modest to be a hero. However, he was sculpted just right to get the job done and was confident enough to charm his way into or out of any situation. This had to have been what intrigued me the most.

His mind was made of money and his conversation dripped ambition. I was taken aback by his interests that seem to coincide with mine. Chatting from sun-up to sun-down, it was as if I had become entangled in, what I could only classify as, a lusty web. With curiosity pulsating through the very veins that pumped my blood, I felt a thrill in the idea of diving deeper into his charm. With such a burning desire to act upon this curiosity, we decided to set the date. We would venture from cyber-space to each other's place.

The American Dream (poetry)

Do I really want to be the American dream?
Do I really want to inflate myself with plastic just to seem
as if I am the epitome of every lustful voice that sings?
Should I be forced to dressed as an adorable mess
or be reprimanded for removing my tresses?
If the label doesn't cost more than my bills,
does that make my apparel any less real?
If I decided that my pride can be measured by my stride
instead of by the length of hair locks that could drop down to my side,
does that mean I cannot be fit for t.v.?
Does that mean that I can't be some prince's fantasy and dream?
If the money is slow to come because I pursued it the long way-
If the money is slow to come because I've only put in one long day,
Does that make my fight irrelevant?
Does that make my dreams irreverent?
I simply feel it gives me reason to believe that my outcome should be more heaven-sent.
But that's not the American dream...
We fixate our eyes on pre-screened, hand written dream of another man.
We tend to find pleasure in someone else's vision instead of perfecting our own plan.
Shame to he who wakes up and walks in his own shoes
because he is the one who has accepted reality despite what the rest of the world chooses.
Woe unto he who has patience to be legit.
It seems that the majority tends to seek out funds through the quick
through a plot
through a scheme
with random shots.
Just because you throw the first fist,
doesn't make your fight any more relevant.
Just because your dream seems to fit,
doesn't make your dream more reverent.
Take pride in the notion of having patience, having hopes and
fighting for truth, dealing with honesty-
The foundations of a strong, everlasting dynasty.
Be the American to recreate the dream.
Address how that fantasy world isn't always as it seems,
because the reality is that other grass isn't always green.