Bob Dylan

Dear Bob Dylan:

Who are you and why do I even care?

On a day in and day out basis; I really don’t.

Dig deep and…I still don’t care.

Dig deeper yet; way down.

Do I really not care?

Nope, I really don’t.

I love that you were a part of my life.

Was my love bequeathed to you because of the words you chose to speak, or the voice that you used to speak them with?

Maybe that is all I ever had of you; your words, your songs.

It all gets lost in the illusion of life.

I can read about you or watch you on a movie and become impassioned by you.

Does this mean I care? I’d like to think I am that warm person that cares, but I really don’t radiate that deep.

There is not that much depth inside me to care.

It sounds so cold doesn’t it. The truth of ones morality is often too chilling to take so we warm it up all over with gooey warm butter and syrup dripping all about.

So why would I take the time to write this what-ever-you-call-it?

Emotions move through me constantly.

I watch a movie; emotions stir.

I read a book; emotions stir.

I take a stroll; emotions stir.

Emotions that like to get the attention of seeing themselves on a piece of paper. Call the emotion “Ego Within”.

My ego is continually rising high with a vast calling to be heard by many.

Will anyone read this? Probably not.

Does my ego know this? It pretends it doesn’t.

It pretends many care.

It makes up a pretend world with pretend people that want to know what I have to say, that need ‘what I have to say’ to make their life complete.

Even if there were many people that thought they cared what I said, so what. One minute they care the next they spit on you. (…not literally)

It is all fleeting because like me, they don’t really know what is going on inside themselves or outside in the world. They may think they touch on the core of who they are. They might think, “Wow, so this is who I am.” Then, in a flash, some drama happens and that confidence is stripped away leaving them feeling raw and vulnerable with the words “who am I?” headlining their minds.

So I write this to say, hey I care for you.

For this immediate second I care.

Really I do!!!!!!!

Really is so real that in the next second I may not even think about you.

The cell phone rings and you no longer exist. Oh sure, at some point you may become a flash again in my world but who’s really watching.

I sit the phone down and look at this piece of paper. I have already forgotten what I wrote. I read the page again and remember it all from a completely new perspective.

Is it the most poetic perspective I am capable of? Hell, I have no idea. I am lucky if my mind can even remember why I wrote the last word.

I dig deep. How deep, you may wonder, does it take to write something down that will change the world?

I have no fucking idea. (Oh no, anger issues!)

Let’s say you care. Reality check, lets say you think for this second that you really care.

Then for that second we transcend everything that is “normal” in this world. For one-second we connect. In that second we truly connect if we understand it is insignificant within the realm of reality.

It is so significant in the outer realm of reality that I want to call that reality home.

I want to have that be my home that I return to more often than any other.

Like when you go to college and your family leaves your bedroom exactly like you left it. They even call it ‘Jeanie’s bedroom.’ I go out into the world and see and feel many different things but I always return to that house and close the door behind me sinking into my bed while releasing a deep sigh. That is the home where I want to put that abstruse essence of understanding; the understanding you know you have no way of ever putting words to.

Is there really still a bedroom out their with the name ‘Jeanie’s bedroom’ on it? Not on this physical plane they call Earth but definitely in another dimension, even if that dimension is just the mere imagination of my mind.

Remember me Bob? You sang a song in my bedroom while I played the guitar. We laughed as we drew pictures of marijuana leaves in an oil palate that covered the rainbow. I cared deeply for you then.

In that dimension of my reality.

In that world.

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