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EP

December 2007

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Dec. 15th, 2007

reflecting

fear

What are you afraid of?

People ask me this a lot. If people don’t know what you’re afraid of I think it makes you seem less human because they don’t know your weakness. I give them a pretty general answer every time because I really don’t know. Sometimes I just smile and try to give a witty reply (which doesn’t work too often) and hope a new, better question comes up. The only thing that comes to my mind is really personal and I don’t like to share all my family business with the media

When I was young we were poor but I got along all right because of my parents. I wasn’t afraid of much then because somehow I knew they would always back me up. I even went along with the responsibility of growing up in America to serve in the US Army. They said I could be part of this special service that would make some of the work less dirty but I didn’t see much of a point in it. I figured these other guys were over there doing their part and they didn’t get offered something like that. There wasn’t any need to make anyone feel worse than they had to.

My mama died in 1958…I had to come back to America to see her after the doctor told me she was real sick. It feels like a lifetime ago but I can remember getting the phone call like it was yesterday. It’s strange how time works like that. I didn’t believe it at first but when I got to the hospital I guess that was when it really hit me. Here is this woman who you grew up with thinking that she’s always going to be by your side and all of the sudden she’s just gone. She was diagnosed and the doctor said she was real sick but it wasn’t real closure. When I would go see her she’d still smile a little and talk to me. I was sure she was going to get out of there.

What I fear most then would have to be death. It doesn’t have to be dying early or dying when you’re real old….it doesn’t matter if you go to Heaven or somewhere else. Leaving things behind back here on earth is what scares me: people, possessions and impressions. There is a lot I want to do before I die and Lord knows I’m getting to do a lot of it because of my occupation. I’m very grateful to everyone for that. Still, I wonder every day if I’m really making people happy or if they’re proud of me and what will happen after I’m gone. It’s a lot to worry about. That and there isn’t much known about what happens after death. You just have to have faith and that’s the only answer you’re gonna get. 507
grin

Opposite sex?

You've woken up as the opposite sex this morning... now what?

Don't get me wrong or anything, but I'd have to say that would be the worst thing in the world. Nothing against women at all- it's all against myself. I would make the worst woman in the world. Ladies, don't think all the effort you put into looking good goes unnoticed. Not sure if I have the patience to do that.

I have a lot of people who make sure my hair is back the right way and that my face doesn't get too shiny under the stage lights. I know for a fact every woman doesn't have her own staff. She puts on her own makeup and curls her own hair. Then there's mothers, like my mama, who take care of their family and children over themselves and somehow manage to keep it together. I don't think men are capable of the feats women have: keeping it all together while still managing to balance in heels.

Basically all I'm saying is that I would rather not wake up a girl. I don't know the first think about hair curling, lipstick wearing and how to walk in those tricky heels.

Sep. 10th, 2007

reflecting

TM topic - Vanished

In many ways Elvis Presley was still the young southern boy from Tupelo, Mississippi, he just had more of a reputation. While his views on mysticism were loyal to Heaven and the Lord he did like magic. Since he was a boy he had seen magicians perform with their fancy scarves and birds of a mysterious nature. Their most popular trick was, of course, the one involving a rabbit and a hat.

A magician stands tall and proud onstage. Why shouldn't he be? He has the audience eating out of his hand. In his hand he has a simple prop; a top hat. He makes it apparent that his sleeves have been emptied of all scarves and foreign objects. Everything is still. Silence. Then the percussion line starts. The audience's hearts beat in a flurry; they wait with bated breath. The magician raises his right hand into the air and it hovers over the hat. The drums stop for a second that feels like hours and his hand plunges into the depths: out comes a snowy white rabbit. A successful fanfare plays and the applause rings out. The audience is still mesmerized by a trick that is done during every single magic show.

At times we all want to be the rabbit- to have everyone hold their breaths as they anxiously await our presence. The magician would be nothing if he could not produce the rabbit. Then, after the mere act of materializing one can go back to secrecy. No one knows where you have been or where you will go. To be a rabbit is to have the ability to vanish.

At times Elvis wants to vanish The public eye is something every celebrity must face and yet the man still holds some sense of privacy. He values every single person that helped him get to where he stands and wishes there was a way to express his gratitude to every single person but, just like any southern boy, he loves time with family and close friends.

If vanishing is out of the question Elvis would like nothing more than to be the showman…to appear and bring happiness. In the end materializing is well worth it.

Aug. 26th, 2007

EP

(no subject)

Write About a Recurring Dream

I used to dream a lot more when I was a kid. Most of the time it was
of happy things, stuff like cowboys and Indians or the future. I don't
think I've ever had a recurring dream recently, though. Everything is
a bit overwhelming these days with the shows and a few other things.
Sleep and time for dreams and such would be a welcome change. Still I
do love doing what I do.

Maybe I do have something that relates. You can call it unfinished
business or my burden to carry but I've always wanted to find out
where my twin was buried. Back in Tupelo he was put to rest and that's
all gotten further and further away with every day that goes by. The
matter, however, is something personal. I like keeping my privacy very
much but there's some facts about you that folks just know like my
brother. I figure you have the right to know that much, that I think
about him often and something about finding him or meeting up with him
in a dream brings about a sense of wholeness.

That about wraps it up. Sometimes I can be short with words but it's a
touchy subject. Thanks for reading, thank you very much.

(words: 212)

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