A nice way to live.

So much easier making myself known. When back in America. My homeland. It’s different in Italy. In Sardinia. With my Italian true love. Yes, language makes a difference. But then, I don’t have an overwhelming desire to be known. All right to be inconspicuous.  Unknown. Except for a handful of friends. I move about. Somewhat invisible. That can be a nice feeling.  Being an observer. In Paradise. I don’t have to connect directly to learn the ways of the natives. I’m here mainly to be with my true love. That’s where I get my major sustenance. And then sitting down. And writing. Telling what I see. My observations. My thinking. It’s a nice way to live. –Jim Broede