Tuesday, September 14, 2010

I was born to be a dancer, i was born a white swan.

Feel my silky moves as I glide across the floor, see my white heat surround Diana's beautiful ebony as we make onlookers just say "oh my, there goes that man, don't they look pretty". Ya, that is me. Sometimes that feels like a million dazzling glittery miles away, sometimes it feels rude and harsh like yesterday's cocaine hangover. This was a time before I knew Critter, the joys of the wilderness , whole grain pancakes, family dinners and 8 hour sleeps. This was NYC, this was LA, this was the Concorde with Truman Capote and Bianca. This was Champagne and fondue, Swiss alps and apres ski.
Journey with me as I took a look at what I was and could never really be. A fancy dancer, a macho man, a swashing buckling bon vivant trotting across your globe. I had it all, the city, the women, lobster dinners and 4 day weekends. I traded all my tomorrows for these yesterdays but these tears are not of regret but an age I no longer hace.

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