This dream is dizzy, it pulls me to the frontiers of the strangest forbidden. Toys with perversity, with death, with the sordid. Even though the scenarios which this imagination creates are sometimes terrifying and shocking, It knows perfectly how to draw a line between dream and reality, they are only an expression of my unconscious - an unconscious which is free.

The lover who haunts my night has a disquieting face. He's a powerful and solitary man. He wears a great black cloak and can brave all dangers - physical as well as metaphysical dangers. He's very often the likeness of a vampire - handsome but terribly dangerous. If he approaches, he'll drink blood and tear my soul away. In exchange, he'll give access to immortality.

He is a brother of doctor Faust, a magician or poet capable of signing a pact with Lucifer, a man hovering far above others since the time he sold his soul to the devil. He's a kind of black archangel who, if I dare come to him, will initiate infinite pleasures, only capable in my dreams.

My body exhausted.

My mind racing.

I was thinking of a few words I put on paper. They were haunting me. They were just a couple of lines. Lyrics really.

They were undone.

Now I'm up at 1:30 in the morning writing lyrics.

I started something. I have to finish.

Until I do, these words won't let me rest.

I'm not a novelist nor do I have my eye on a Pulitzer. But non the less, I have been writing for many years and I'm good at it. Poems, short stories and my specialty, lyrics.

I haven't been writing much the past few months. For many small reasons but mainly because I thought I hadn't had much worth writing about. I know better now.

I was in a crucial transitional period. I am always changing but this transition was different. It changed my life in ways I would not have imagined. 

The past 6 years have been very formidable within me.

I have experienced great love, great loss and great change. I write great because there IS an intense greatness I received from all of this.

Most importantly, these past years have most definitely assured me of all I'm capable of feeling, doing and being.

There is much to say about my loves, losses and changes and I will touch more on the rest another time. Now the one I will share is what I cherish most.

I've learned to live without fear and replace it with love.

I am learning the process of this daily.

The larger, most common human fears have become meaningless to me. They are nonsensical in the grand scheme of this life and not to mention a huge waste of my time. I realize now how precious time is.

The tiny, daily fears are falling from the waist side. Like old friends you realize you have nothing in common with anymore.

If fear tries to creep up on me, I have the tools of awareness to banish this emotion and immediately replace it with a feeling on acceptance and love.

I am happiest about being without fear.

From this great breakthrough I've learned, I can forgive easily, I need very little, I can do anything I choose, and I like and love with a selflessness I've not experienced before.

Now all I want to do is live each moment without it.

I will talk with new people and invite them into my world. I will write extra ordinary stories and songs, travel to unknown cities and countries and do all of this without those annoying insecurities that are fear based. 

Again, I will say, I'm learning this process on a daily basis.

The more I practice this the more I feel my life is limitless.

My little suggestion to you is to face and conquer one fear a day. Before long, you will have no room for any.

My favorite pizzeria in Brooklyn, still there, with the same old italian men behind the counter, happy, welcoming, shouting and prideful in the work they do. Same chairs, same booths, same gum ball machines. Most importantly, the pizza is still the best I've ever tasted.

I have been to Italy and briefly visited Naples. I've never had the pleasure of eating at Pizzeria Michele, which the Italians, Neapolitans, and most of the rest of the world, claim to have the best of the best pizza. Pizzeria Michele makes 2 kinds of pizza. Margarita and Margarita with extra mozzarella. They would cringe at the thought of a square pizza pie. In Italy, square pies are used with many other toppings, and have various names but they are not called pizza. Since the Neapolitans actually invented pizza, the Margarita, I have a sneaking suspicion this may be the ultimate.

But to me, because this humble storefront is the same in color, character and authenticity, and one bite of it's perfectly crusted, cheesy corner sicilian slice of heaven brings me straight back to the memory of absolute joy, I will stand by my belief that Da Vinci in Brooklyn USA is the ultimate pizza experience. 

Io sono innamorato della lingua italiana. Sono stato in grado di imparare un po 'nel corso degli anni. Il mio italiano non è adeguato a tutti come si può dire con questo scritto, ma cerco ancora di pratica di parlare, leggere o scrivere ogni giorno.

Ho studiato spagnolo al liceo e fu in grado di parlare un po 'fino a quando ho perso interesse.

Italiano, spagnolo e francese sono tutte le lingue molto simili. Sono piuttosto sicuro che se io imparare l'italiano abbastanza bene poi spagnolo e francese verrà molto più facile per me.

Sono determinato ad imparare l'italiano abbastanza bene per avere una conversazione discesa.

Ho diversi libri, lezioni audio e il passo successivo è quello di iscriversi in classi.

Sono eccitato.

Auguratemi buona fortuna.

Visited some new friends at there new apartment in my neighborhood. We talked for hours about music plans.

I've been receiving lots of offers to sing and write. Some offers are from pretty well established musicians that I really admire. I'm honored and humbled, and of course, I'm jumping on these opportunities. 

The morning passed quickly.

Around noon, I hit the streets. I can safely say I traveled 30 miles around manhattan. Uptown east, downtown west, midtown along 5th avenue. I took good care of business until 7pm.

Drove to Montclair NJ for 8:30 dinner reservations. Had a fabulous dinner with good friends.

Drove back to the city about midnight.

Everyone came to my apt.

This amazing chance encounter happened. My friends and I had an offer to stay at a condo in the Miramar resort of Puerto Vallarta, Mexico for free. We laughed and talked and booked the trip!

Exhausted, I'm going to lay in bed and read a new book that I can't get enough of.

I'm blessed.

He picked me up from the city at 9am. He's an early riser. We drove along the Gowanus as he told me all about his trip to Jamaica. He had rasta beads around his very tan neck. I tried not to laugh. I just smiled. He said Jamaica was hot and touristy. I thought, hmm isn't it suppose to be both of these things. I just listened as he seemed to talk a mile a minute. We turned off bay 8th exit and he drove straight to Vegas Diner for breakfast. I loved this diner as a teenager. We ordered eggs and coffee and he continued to talk. He smiled as he told me about his plans to do next to nothing when he retires, which will be in just about a week. I was happy to listen.

We finished our food and then went to visit my grand aunt Madeline.

She was done up in her gray suit, pearl earrings and red lipstick. Her hair was in a perfect bun. She is 90 years young. She said she just couldn't believe how beautiful I looked. She said I looked like a movie star. I almost wanted to believe her, then I realized she can't see or hear very well. When I was young, she seemed so tall and graceful to me. She is now a tiny woman yet still carries herself with an air of elegance. A warm feeling of melancholy came over me as I gave her fragile frame a hug goodbye.

My dad asked what I wanted to do. I said "I want to go shoe shopping and have a corner sicilian slice of Da Vinci's pizza"

That's just what we did.

After a while, we headed back to his house, watched the baseball game and talked. We talked about love, marriage, divorce, work, my niece and nephew, my grandfather, death, old age, traveling. It was a very candid, honest and heart felt talk.

My dad is changing. He's aging. Matters that were once light to him are now taken seriously. He told me how proud he is of the woman I've become. He said I was someone he truly admired. He said I made a great life for myself and I should never stop following my heart, my dreams. These were once hard words for him to say and now they flowed from him freely, openly and with complete sincerity.

The day went quickly. We ate dinner together. Salad, sausage and peppers. After dinner, he rested for a little while. He then drove me home. Back to my apartment in the city. I gave him a big kiss and a hug. I was a little sad to leave him.

It was a pretty perfect day in Brooklyn with my dad.

Yes, I've been there before, but this trip will be different.

I will go and see all I missed during my last visit. I missed so much last time because I, well we, had a large agenda. I was traveling with a girlfriend and our plan was 4 countries in 3 weeks via hotel train. It was a great, hectic, overwhelming, fun experience but I was a much less experienced traveler.

Now, I can say with confidence and several countries under my belt, I am a seasoned traveler. 

I have a small list of places and people to see. I will do my research as usual. I'll brush up on my high school spanish. I'll pack light.

The main goal of this trip is to let each day take me where it will. I'll wake in the morning and enjoy the rich hot taste of my coffee. I'll take the moments slowly. Soak it all in. Find the newness in the city. I'll eat as much tapas, suckling pig and pastries as I want. Allow my eyes to marvel at the architecture. To take the entire day visiting the Picasso. Enjoy sitting at an outdoor cafe with the sun shining on me and the time passing, as I admire the people and there culture. 

I may even travel on after Barcelona. The beauty of this trip is that I will choose not to decide this or anything else I want to do until the day decides for me.

Still smiling.

My eyes beamed at the colors. My nose switched with excitement as the sent danced it's way in. My tounge worshiped the fork. My insides satisfied before it even reached my mouth.

It was spiritual.

Smiling.