Wesley Edward Livingston
I think that I am a sound man. I’m being thoughtful, excuse me if I wax incoherent, everything will soon find its meaning. I think that the life I lead can typify many of the experiences that people encounter daily, meaning, I am just like everyone else. There is comfort in that, knowing that you are not alone, not wandering like a stray. There is little meaning in being alone, there are choices to be made that are properly considered with two heads rather than the fool one. I increase my value by coupling, I can be a better man with support, so I got that going for me. I have Valeria, I love her, she makes me better and encourages me. I am anchored. I feel solidly on my feet. Therefore, I am able to experience life, to truly inhabit all of my faculties that encounter the things that make up our existence as human beings. My existence is not superfluous, even if it proves meaningless in the cosmic sense, because it matters to me, and to people similar to me because we organize into societies to become interdependent. I matter because together we can find meaning in the time we have and it can be wondrous to look back. I exist to coexist with those like me.
Roy Devon Cureton
When he was six years old, it was 1992 and Roy was just starting first grade where he would be introduced to textbooks. They helped him settle into the new environment that he hated because there was no place to be alone. He learned that he could make everyone in his physical space disappear when he buried himself in picture books and he would use books throughout his future to escape from whatever reality held him in his present that he found unpleasant. What good does anyone have for such an escape artist, who does not even come with a visual spectacle to wow an audience, just the hunch in his back that he struggles against and his glasses that sit on his nose in a slant. That’s something right? You all like to gawk at that and then you’re finally interesting to your friends when you get to tell them about the interesting person you met, the unique individual who could be this or that but isn’t, and somehow that is admirable. You must be an interesting person for stopping to talk to such a man. He makes you interesting by association. And he says, you’re welcome.
Maxwell Albert Roberson
A man is just his actions. Sometimes, he is his words; when they describe real actions taken. He is the people that love and respect him, and those who revile and hate him. He is his community and his pet, his car, his house. A man is everything he touches. I live to touch, to feel, to see, hear and smell. And that is important because I say so.
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