Tony Stadick - Self Portrait

Am I wrong to believe in choice, perhaps freedom. Love is told to be a blessing, now I can't find time to blossom. How is it I end up like this for 1 of every 2. Unbelievably conscious and breathing in change. Hesistating to pull my way, but anxious and willing to fight for what I want and believe in. Powerful to point of no control, suddenly I'm taken over, and brought down to being dishonest with myself, or so I think. All I needs an answer... help. Like a stain I feel so notice and vunerable, if only I could wash clean and start over. Indiginous to reality and a concept of concrete, that sometimes slowly crumbles. Falling hurts especially for truth, but truth is I can't really tell, or even see what lies ahead. I know my heart pumps and it's still pretty bossy, inept to telling me what to do, instant and spontaneous I respond in just a beat. I like it though and seem to have this taste with loss of words. Description is even tough to spell. Myself is a whole nother story. Fluent for the most part and going somewhere. Happiness is awaiting arrival, for everyone, simple seclusion sometimes, anything that does the trick. The one you can never figure out. Because it truly is magic and I've seen it, in the walls and in faces. Certain that my life needs a little, for I have my destiny.

Tony Stadick

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