Emotionally weary, I look at the onset of my abstract horizon, speckled with questions of "What ifs" , riddled with insecurities and casually wonder if the sunlight and the hopes of if a brighter tomorrow will ever pierce through this seemingly permanent stormy twilight of singlehood. I nonchalantly stare at the bands of dark clouds of anxiety as they encroach towards me with a confident yet deafening silence— Ironically there's no reassurance of the familiar thundering that will herald the onset of this eminent change—Paradoxically it's a change from nothing – the ship I sailed for most of my voyage have been sailed solo. The dark clouds of emptiness have always been there on the Horizon--- my logic have just merely suppressed my emotions into a state of dis-acknowledgment of their existence ….
As I stand isolated, confined to my tattered shoes, my mind nervously twiddles and fidgets with glimpses of past fond memories like a neonate priest grasps for the rosary during his darkest hour.

I am fortified not with materialistic treasures of money or wealth, for the surplus of "stuff" and the abundance of opulence can change on a whim.. We all walk such a thin line of uncertainty like the broken-ankle rope walker performing at a shabby circus---never really knowing what may happen on the next step –I am merely equipped with my with Wit and my Sense of humor and all the altruistic qualities that was instilled in me from Scouts, my Dad and all the people that were once upon a time very close to me.. I stare into the abyss of the unknown searching for my counterpart – a kind soul that I feel will help convey memories of the once bright days which will expedite the passage of the gloomy ones—Alas I won't be confined to these tattered shoes, for it really won't matter where I stand…the only thing that matters will be how close I can stand next to her.

I view myself as some type of sales person— I often wonder how do I advertise my inner abstract qualities? How do people do this seemingly impossible task? I often hear the horror stories of women who fell for the wrong guy..They usually say something like "Boy he had me fooled!!" What's the deal with "these guys?" Do they play the game "pretend" /make believe--- hold up a facade for 6 months to a year and "hook" their unsuspecting victim like the crafty fisherman, only to reveal the consequences of devouring such delectable, seemingly free bait after the wedding ceremony?? Do these crafty fishermen wait for the six month period when the wool have been pulled over her eyes to let their gut hang out, display facets of their personality that they hid so well before, and cradle their new found victim with presents of neglect and abuse, spotted with outbursts of profanity?? What's the trick—is there a trick??
I can't help but draw a similarity of the task that the hapless romantic may undertake in the sometimes fruitless attempt to find compatibility wrapped in an appealing vessel to that of the Fiddler Crab.

Have you ever seen them?.—The courtship of the Fiddler Crab--. If you sit still on a marshy beach on a breezy summer evening you'll see them coming out in droves--- the males proudly march out and they stand in front of their humble hut holes, they wave their big white claws and advertise—
'Look at me" Look over here" I'm an awesome individual!!! I'm really a good person!!! Come and check me out!!!—If you sit and watch long enough you may even be encouraged to attach personalities onto these little fellas.. Some of these Fiddler crabs seem to have no problems in attracting females --- likewise, as we all know, they're guys out there that won't really have to move a muscle to attract females- they merely put up pictures of themselves being intoxicated and perhaps show a few pictures of some burrowed metallic looking transport device with four tires and all of the sudden they are swamped with females—

As I watch the patterns of these Fiddlers I notice that in some cases as the female Fiddler enters the pad they suddenly shoot out in a hurry… maybe they were fortunate to recognize the false advertising at the embryonic stages and abandon the interaction… I also notice that some males don't attract any females and perhaps for good reason—they have nothing to offer for they wander aimlessly through the Marsh—waving their claws frantically making quite a display—perhaps this is to somehow compensate for the fact that they have nothing to offer after the show… But how many women get so captivated by the show and the display that they fail to realize that after the show ----that's it— the falsely advertised abstract qualities are really non-existent- they've been over ridden by the selfish, self-centered traits of the advertiser.
I wonder in this whole population of Fiddlers if there are any individuals with all the qualities which will make them a great mate but somehow end up mate-less.. Is this a joke of the Gods?? So many thoughts come to mind about the irony of the qualified, yet mateless Fiddler.. on countless occasions I run into seemingly amazing women that have been jaded, they drag around their emotional baggage like the proverbial albatross in the rhyme of the ancient mariner —tainted from their past experiences they carry rifles of suspicion and build impenetrable walls reinforced with memories of disappointment and failed expectations. They somehow think that their skepticism will somehow provide some kind of escapism from a re-occurrence of their past. Their self imposed prison inevitably blocks out the hope of change and doom them to a vicious cycle of an unfortunate self fulfilling prophecy. I see these people almost like a religious zealot will see an empty soul—they just exist in a grey realm deprived of their once brilliant spark, lust for life faded they live in a hand to mouth mode.. Is this the price we are forced to pay for failed love?

In a twinkle of an eye we enter the late summer of our existence late 20's to 30's the ever falling sands of time cascade down the tiny hourglass opening, as the days turn to decades there seems to be an awareness of anxiety.. What I referred to as the silent thunderless storm of uncertainty.. Sometimes I simply isolate myself in my music room and play the Ostrich---- bury my head in music and play the nonchalant game—suppress my passion and lust for life just like the weary soul–— and why not—it's easy—I don't have to put myself out there – I don't have to make an effort—I merely create happiness being by myself—isn't that an escape system— if my reality is based on my perspective and I create a perspective where I am happy or at least display the symptoms of being content and happy then I have gotten over the system …Right? How many of you simply fill your day with activities so you don't have to worry about finding your other half ? ?? or worst yet don't even think about it-- all because you're just soo busy!!

Reluctantly I am urged to start "Doing the Fiddler" waving my qualities like the gypsy peddler—I use the powers of body language and spell out the phrase "Take my word for it – you're getting a deal!!" Don't we all go through this? Advertise? Whether we like it or not we have to – whether it be the acquisition of wealth and resources or personality or whatever methodology an individual may use to advertise their abstracts – everybody seems to have some "great deal" or the other—It just seems interesting ---we play the juggling game – we balance the fact that time is constantly slipping away—it never was nor will it ever be on our side—it is taken away from us in exchange for experiences – as time passes these experiences are turned to memories and at the end of the game just before we take our last breath, when we reflect on these memories we have no choice than to end with a smile—for that's all we'll ever have-.. So you see if memories are all we have then there's such a danger of going through the majority of your life having all these remarkable experiences by yourself—the danger is that without a counterpart you may forget—You loose some of the only thing you have—the only thing that you shall take with you throughout your life!! How sad that will be when you remember that you forgot about an experience that once upon a time was so meaningful to you.. Almost like remembering that you forgot your favorite childhood song.. There seems to be just soo much more weight on finding the right one—waving your "fiddle" the right way ;-) waving it in a fashion that you'll attract that person that compliments you both physically and emotionally, help you remember your favorite songs as you've made your own enchanted music over the years of your journey—

I say it's worth it—it's worth every last effort and heartache and all the failed attempts and possible exuberance that you'll expend on the wrong people just to find that one—that one that it wouldn't matter what clouds rolled in—it wouldn't matter how turbulent the seas became for you know when you're with that person nothing really matters—rain, shine, snow or sleet—all you'll ever need is to be at her side and see her smile—so until then I'll be advertising my altruism, passions, lust for life like the nomadic gypsy and waving my abstract qualities just like the Fiddler Crabs "Over here—check me out—I've got a great deal!!