My Platform Pleas Where Finally Heard. This time people did remember what I said when I walked off of the stage.

Quick interruption, - Saturday night was great. A small down side but all together awesome. Which once again, led me to be dead at work on Sunday. And I had a lot of work on Sunday. Monday morning was a sore muscle morning. My chest, shoulder blades, and arms were all in severe pain.

Which brings me to my current post.
Ten minutes before my work day ended I went to the bathroom, looked in the mirror and promised myself that the rest of the day would be incredible. I have to make it happen myself, because if the effort doesn't come from me, then who would it come from?
I threw on my thong flip flops, rolled up my slacks and left the building with the greatest expectations. My first stop was of course the cigar shop, where I purchased a Fonseca Vintage petite cigar. I gave it a V-cut, lit it, and left the store making my way to union square. The Cigar only lasted me until 41st street, but that was all I really desired. The rest of my walk was steady and unrushed. I love Manhattan, and walking 40 blocks on the first day of summer is never a bad thing. When I got to 14th street, It was still only 5:30pm, so time was my prey. I walked into Union Square Park, passing by the political rants, the B-Boys, The jazz quartet, and all the other strange beauties that this park provides a haven for, I found my spot, the one that was the most comfortable for me, the one that bought escape and peace for a few moments, and read.

Before I knew it, it was time for me to head to bar 13. Still very early, but I like being early. I can always lend a hand with something. I like to help in all ways possible.
As I walked into the bar I was greeted by OB who pointed in a to a couch. I walked towards the column covered portion of the couch and was surprised to see NINA. I missed her, and I am glad that she escaped the horror that she wrote about. Well maybe not the men but the horror.
I knew that I would be performing platform pleas and I was told that I would be closing out the open mic. I tried to recite it to myself a few moments before I went up on stage. I went to the bathroom, looked in the mirror, said the opening line, and blanked out. At that moment I almost cried. This might be cliched but I felt like Eminem in 8 mile. He choked in the opening battle, just as hard as I chocked at the NUYO. I don't know how I did it. My stomach tossed like nothing else. Seconds before I got up I didn't even remember the first line. My heart shaked, and my stomach cramped. I heard my cue, "closing out the open mic is...", and at that moment the flip flops came off, I walked towards the stage, passed Oscar the written copy that I was going to use as a cheat sheet, and got in the zone. I picked the mic and moved it out of my way, approached the audience and at that moment I was not me anymore. I was not at bar 13, I was on the platform, pleading my case to the straphangers, showing them my scream and my plea. Sounds dramatic, yeah, it is all that I really felt. I didn't return until the ocean of applause took hold of me and slammed me back into the scene.
At that moment, I knew that not one person would forget what I said. My loneliness was evident in my performance. That is what I channeled, not the supporting friends, but the end fate, of solitude and all feelings that accompany it.

The rest of the night was a high. Not a single thing that anyone said, or playful insult, or even stupid word that escaped my vocal chord could bring me off of my high.

Now I am trying to write, but I am up in the air. After the best nights like that, after the work that makes me love me, I always get worried, and afraid. What if that was the last great thing that I would do? How can I repeat something that made me feel so high, so free, so real. My writing wont probably come back for a short while, and I don't know how to feel. I love succeeding at these things but what if I can't do it again? It's like reaching your life's peak. Only down hill from there. I don't know what exactly that high will be, but whenever something feels like it might be that high, I sort of panic. It's okay because I know I will get over it.