Grasshopper

We had everything growing up: airplanes, boats and second homes on lakefronts with pools. We just never spoke about it. I think we lived incognito, dressed poorly and drove average cars while my father painted used car engines for a living. We were forbidden to talk of our personal lives outside of the street where we lived. Not a word, as though at that age any of that made any sense anyway. As far as I knew, everyone lived like us. They all got into their private planes and jumped off somewhere for the weekend. What did I know, the sheltered, silenced one. Again the observer and thankful to be, this is where I learned the stealth moves that got me this far. Don’t say a word, watch and learn grasshopper.

 

Silence yourself once again. Yes, you have a severe traumatic brain injury grasshopper, so shut up and listen…again!  You can say it a million times. They won’t hear you, because they can’t. You’re on a level they can’t understand yet. You speak with thought, where words are missing, yet you assume they understand. They haven’t reached that level yet. So you have to explain in complete earthly detail, in their language, with their undivided attention or you will never reach them. In their eyes you’ll know, because secrets can’t be kept there, not in those eyes and most times you’ll know, they aren’t even listening.