Still Figurin' Out Who I Think I Am

This one's about the edge.

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"One evening you are looking out your porthole and see something. What is it?"

What's up magical cruisers? Sometimes, in the voyage of our lives, we don't know where we're going until we get there. I woke up from a short nap to some rumbling...figuring since the hallway seemed silent, I went to my porthole for a look-see.

Sure enough, my suspicions were right. We were at the edge of the world.

It's not so much a tipping point as it is uncertainty. The porthole isn't wide so there's not a lot of view; just a glimpse. It looks like there's no water beneath the ship...there's a lot of sky, and in the distance it's vein-purple. It's like one of those cutaways you see on The Weather Channel of some obnoxious storm happening while the camera is positioned in a spot where it's beautiful out.

I don't think we're in any danger, but I'm not good at predicting that kinda stuff. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best, and wind up somewhere in-between...that's how I navigate when I'm not on a boat and my life isn't is someone else's hands.

The fact that I can't see the ocean isn't as unsettling as it sounds. It could just be that rare moment where you catch something in an awkward position, like a bad photobomb by Mother Nature. Perhaps we're overcorrecting with the sky. This isn't the end; it's just the edge.

It feels like we've come to a stop. Someone slid a flyer under my door while I was pondering the significance of the clouds in relation to the water...Party by the dock, 8 pm sharp...watch the Earth tip! I like parties. The planet being on its side might be kinda fun. There'll be music and drinks and island girls, presumably. All of which pretty much leads me to the most likely conclusion...I can guarantee I will definitely turn into a horrible dancer at some point.

Ever see those hula girl dancer things that people put on their dashboards? That's how my hips move, but my arms are clearly at a different party. And it's one they weren't invited to. In 1987. But this is where we are, and if we're not sure we'll be here again, gotta make the best most of it. Better shine up my good pair of L.A. Gears...the ones with the two-colored lacing system and the little windows that were clearly a Nike Air ripoff. Daddy's gon' get his groove on tonight while he still can.

"We'll sing and dance and we'll find romance
and we'll stroll to the edge of the world."
Lyrics.  

That's all I've got for today, I think. Trust me when I say I almost wrote a much longer entry about my entire history with baseball (and count your blessings I didn't)...it's the first Subway Series of the season between the Mets and the Yankees, and it's great because for the first time in like a decade the Mets are still relevant during the series. And don't remind me that it's only April...I'm a Mets fan, and I haven't gotten very many opportunities to shit-talk the Yankees in recent history, so you'll allow me to take advantage of that when I can . Now to figure out the rest of my evening...peace, it's not the point, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!