Wish I could see you smile

Ok.
Just like you, I could tell some stories.
Sure. Many.
The worst thing is that I know, 
I mean, I am sure as shit
That the stories I am meant to now make
Are waiting for me
Just out there.
I am trying to Live Low (not low living, which was fun, sure)
To be part of the quiet many.
If only for a bit.
But I tell you, those stories whisper.
They call.
Sometimes they cry out in lustful agony.
All the time waiting
Perched just on the edge of the mind
Just on the edge of control.
Lately, life has become different
I would say more, um, real?
Let me tell y’all.
This Real Stuff that is supposed to be 
The Way
Sure is boring.
Ah. The unreal. It’s like eating sweet frosted cake
For breakfast.