The sacred geometry of chance

Song of the Moment

So many memories, it's hard to keep them all in place. I remember when my Daughter started school. I wanted so badly to be there for her first day, to be there when she got on the bus. I couldn't be there though. She lived so close and so far away from me. I could only watch from down the road, as she nervously stepped onto the bus, all smiles and sunshine. I sent my love to her with a whispered sentence as the bus drove away.

The bus went by every day where I lived. I woke up early to stand out in the parking lot and chance seeing her, to wave and send my smile her way. Too many mornings, it drove by in a flash ... one moment then gone. It was enough for me to imagine she had seen me waving.

One morning, the light turned red and the bus had to stop. I strained to see if she was watching for me. So many faces looking out the windows. Except for one, ... in the fogged up window, I saw a heart, drawn in the fog. And my girls face, smiling and waving back. All the chances were worth it for that one moment.

Life is about chance, doing what you can when you can do it. Keeping those special memories with you and trying hard to make more.

I am changed by you

Song of the Moment

Life isn't about finding yourself, it's about "creating" yourself. For a while there, I was trying to find what was here all along. Each day is all I need. I wish I had the words to describe the colours you place in my world. I have never seen anything like you in my Life and I don't think I ever will again. Thank you for turning dust into gold.



"Tell me again about my heart."
"It may be dusty, but you have a heart of gold."



Ciao

Be something you love and understand.

Song of the Moment

I remember a time when I was younger, maybe 7 or 8. I had just started getting an allowance. My Mom had a friend by the name of Stewart Ramsay. He was 82 years old and was a chimney sweep. His face and hands were always sooty black but he always had a smile on his face. He drove an old school bus that he painted brown, the only thing that could carry his extra long ladders around town. Stewart also sold "Rawleigh products", ... homemade root beer kits, ointments, medicinal creams, "make your own ice cream" kits and the such. He kept all this in my Mom's basement and I would help keep it organized. Stewart would give me his pocket change for this; Mom would take calls for Stewart for people to have their chimneys swept and he would give her money every day for it. And, every day, Mom and I would go to the store, the Save Easy mall, which was just a few minutes walk from where we lived.
At first, I would buy a comic book from "Books N Things", searching through the single rack of comics, Captain Carrot and the Zoo Crew, West Coast Avengers, New Universe, etc.. Mom would look through the ornaments they had on the shelves while I searched. I remember one of the signs they had ...

"Precious to look at, delightful to hold, but if you should break it, consider it sold!"

As I got older, I would use Stewarts pocket change to buy Mom a flower from the All Occasion florist every Sunday. Just a plastic flower. I would always get a card too, one of those small "Thank you" cards you get with flowers. I would write silly things on it, like "To: The best Mom in the world, From : The best Son in the world". She had an album of all these cards, she always kept them. Mom kept the plastic flowers in a vase by the door. They always made her smile. The vase was filled by 2 years, and we would "weed it out", taking out the older, falling apart flowers.
One Sunday, I remember I was going to go to the flower place, but, when I was putting on my shoes, Mom was in the kitchen, talking to someone on the phone. She was crying. I didn't know until later that she had found out that week she was diagnosed with breast cancer. She tried to explain this to me, but I didn't understand. All I knew was that Mom was sad, and I wanted to make her happy. I said "I'm going to go get you a flower, ok? That always makes you happy." She tried to smile but the tears started again. I didn't understand why it wasn't making her happy. I ran out of the house and threw all my change on the lawn. I didn't want it anymore. It wasn't helping. Nothing was helping. I couldn't do anything!
Mom came out and sat with me on the front step. She told me everything was going to be ok, don't worry. I told her I threw my money away, that I didn't want it anymore, it wasn't making her happy. She said "But you worked hard for that money. And I am so happy and proud of how hard you worked for it." We spent the next hour looking for all the loose change I threw away. When we had it all picked up, I asked her what we should do now? We both went to the store, and I got her a white carnation, a real flower. I had that flower for years after she passed away. It got lost somewhere along the way, but the memory remains. And the lessons she taught me.


Don't take anything for granted, Life is too short.

Be happy with what you have, while you have it.

Being happy can make others happy, just give it Time.


Ciao

That there was a little more to life somewhere else

Song of the Moment

I had a dream. I was looking in the freezer for some ice for my drink and I found a snowball in the fridge. The snowball we hid that day we played in the Park. I took it with me down the hall and found you, lying on the floor, watching TV. I ask you if you remember when we put *this* in the freezer. When we looked in my hand, the snowball had melted, and there was a tiny pine tree limb in my hand, wet from the melted snow. I looked up to smile, and then woke up to see your smiling face.








Ciao

Tonight, tomorrow, and every day

Song of the Moment

Sometimes I listen to sad songs
ones that make the lonely ache
and the hurt hurt more
because they are place-markers
Road signs of my Past

I sometimes listen to them to give insight;
To prepare myself for the wrongs that can happen
Between Now and the Then
seems like a lifetime
because they have been

And with each new Lifetime
a new lesson is learned, a new road is taken






Ciao

keep you apart deep in my heart

Song of the Moment

One of those nights where the music
said everything for me
and the silhouettes caught me off guard
like porcelain dolls


And your eyes reflect
all the things that are said and unsaid
like snowflakes falling from the stars

But that was a dream and we are now waking
with the memories etched inside
Piece them together for the new day

And you can't know
what I don't say
But you do

Beneath the stains of time the feelings disappears

Song of the Moment

A long time ago, I was told I would get hurt. I heard this through the filter of normalcy however. "How could I get hurt? I feel bulletproof!" But, my bulletproof mask wore with Time, and it could not shield me from the pain that came. The pain of ending. It happened again and again, ... over Time.
We are all going to feel hurt, just like we all can feel joy. It's the norm of Life. Only the fool does not feel the pain, simple in his innocence, he feels happy that it happened at all. The mourning process is different for the simple. I know I have lived for I have hurt.
I want to be your memory. I want to be that special person until the next special person comes along. I don't want you to remember the hurt. I will. And when our paths divide, sending us to the opposite corners of our Lives, I want you to remember the joy, as I want to.
My New Years resolution. I want to treat each moment spent with anyone like it were the last. To break ties after leaving, cherishing the moment in a way those that hurt can.

Happy New Years to everyone close to my heart right now .. including you, Mister Hugh








Ciao

You won't break me no matter how hard you try

Song of the Moment

It would be great if I could call and talk to my Daughter. Instead, my call goes right to Voicemail, time and time again. I leave a message which I can only guess gets deleted, since my Daughter never hears any of them. The more I think of it, when I drive her home every weekend, it's feeling more and more like I am dropping her off at Jail. Maybe I'll just try sending her letters instead.
And yes, it's still ongoing, this "Hate' thing my ex-wife has for me. I don't think she understands what she is doing when she does these "dirty little tricks". Apparently, I am the bad guy. The one bad thing I have ever done was not taking my Daughter with me when she left. Because of that one overlooked thing, I have endured 10 years of hate from the other side. I'm beyond the point of asking "When will it stop?" It won't stop, ... apparently, I *need* to be continually reminded that I can't see her on a daily basis.

But at least I do have one form of venting this. Writing. Putting the words down so I can remember for a later day. And what lesson should I remember for a later day today?

"No matter how good things look, there's always someone who despises you. Pay them no mind, for there are people who despise these people also. The root branch is the one that grows on it's own, not tangled and suffocated by the rest of the tree."











Ciao

So dont yield to the fortunes you sometimes see as fate ... It may have a new perspective on a different day.

Song of the Moment

A few weeks ago, the radiator in my car got a leak. With not enough to pay for the repairs right away, I am a pedestrian again temporarily. I biked from work to pick up the Daughter. We both biked home, laughing, talking about the week, coasting down the hill and I'm hearing "I'm Queen of the road!!". As we walked up the hill, Amber and I talk.

"Phew, this is a tall hill..."
"Yeah! But it will be fun going down the other side."
"Yeah!
"You know what, Dad?"
"What?"
"It's kind of like everything.."
"Hmmm?"
"Well, going up and down the hill. It's like what we do all the time. We work really hard to climb up and up and up. And when we get to the top, it doesn't take much to ride down the other side."
"You're right Amber. And sometimes, we work so hard climbing the hill, we are too tired to enjoy the ride down the other side."
"Yeah ... hey Dad? Want to turn around and coast down the hill again?"
"... you bet."

I never had these talks with my Dad. I am glad I was able to have this conversation with my Daughter.


















Ciao

You don't know my name, you don't know my number, you don't know my face at all.

Song of the Moment

I remember working at the Pot factory. I started there grinding handles for the pots. A pretty mindless job ... swipe-swipe, turn over, swipe-swipe, toss in bucket, next. It was all about #'s. An 8 hour day equaled almost 800 handles for the new people, over 1000 for people at it for a while. After a few months, I increased my production to 1200 and got promoted to hand sander.

Not much of a promotion, considering the work involved wrapping sandpaper around your fingers, and rubbing them on the inside lip of a freshly formed pot, suctioned to a spinning device. Several people lost fingers at this job. I managed to survive with only minor cuts which scarred and healed and was then promoted once more to "Pot man". Only 2 others in the factory could run the Draw Press, that weird machine that would smoosh an oiled metal disc around a die and "voila" a pot popped out, with a charming "Ding", when the metal bar rose back up.

The other 2 draw press operators had been doing this job for a while, one at it for over 10 years. They both knew the machine, inside and out, and could keep to a quota. The foreman would meet one or the other at 6 AM, when we all got there, and get a report on how many pots had been done the previous night in order to find out how many of what pot needed to be done on that day. I learned easily how to "Keep to quota" and the consequences of going under (Being yanked from the draw press for the day to punch handles - running a metal wire through a press which cut the wire to handle length. Mindless.) But this was done in order to ensure that the amount of pots needed by end of day was completed, by an experienced worker.

The secret to keeping to a quota was to make sure to divide the amount needed by the amount of time in the day ... and then get 12 more an hour. Doing this successfully for a month did not increase any "Targets" we had. We all wanted to achieve more then what was needed anyways, since we got paid a half decent wage for that time. We focused our time on finding easier ways to get the same job done and how we could improve the quality of the pot being produced. Experimenting with pressures on the metal, different gauges for measuring off the discs.

The other secret to this position was to understand that "raises" did not mean someone was "going over their target". It was about "Quality of work" and "recognizing dedication to the job". I remember Louis, the foreman, meeting with me after production was done for the day. He read over my log and asked me to stay behind a few minutes. He explained that it was going to be time for raises soon and I was due for one. He explained that it wasn't because of the amount of work being done, but because of how I A. showed up for work every day, B. tried to find new ways of doing things. Hearing this puffed out my ego. It was awesome. The amount of the raise did not matter, I enjoyed getting recognized for the small things.

I met the 3rd "Potman" on the way out the door and told him about my chat with the foreman. He said he did not get a raise that year, but that was ok. He enjoyed his job. He got what he wanted from the job, put in what needed to be put in and tackled the challenges as they came, generating praise from the foreman. Maybe next year.

I felt bad at first about telling him about my raise, since he did not get one, but then realized it did not matter. This guys raise was being given to him on a weekly basis, with the foreman recognizing when he did something great. If something went wrong, it was dealt with, and the rest of the members of the "Pot" team learned from it. No one was kept "in the dark". Performance was talked about in the open. No one was told to "Not talk about your promotion to the other workers". What could be benefited from this? We were proud of the work we did. We were proud of the people we worked with and the people charged with over-seeing our production. If someone was doing poorly, we tried to find out why, since the production of a pot did not include 1 person only, but the whole factory. If there was a break in that line, production slowed, meaning longer hours of work, less time spent at home with our families.

Long story short, my time at the Pot factory taught me one very important lesson. Doing well at your job didn't give you bragging rights. It gave you that feeling of "Ahhh", that was shared by others, not kept from them. Doing a job less then awesome wasn't always a bad experience, it was a learning experience. Something you could use to better yourself. Not something to be kept like a dirty secret.













Ciao

I'm tired of living in the dark .. can anyone see me down here?

Song of the Moment

Is it time to vent? Why YES! Yes it IS!

1. You need to chill the F out. I don't want fights from you. I don't want anything from you now, honestly. Maybe one time I did. Maybe one time it was cool to be able to communicate effectively. Maybe one time, long and ever ago, it actually mattered what you thought. Now, I just want you to stop .. all together. Why? Because I know, from experience, that you can do nothing else but "be you" ... always wanting to belittle and demean. So be it. But keep that shit to yourself, got it? I have A-B-S-O-L-U-T-L-E-Y no room for that shit in my Life. We clear?

2. And YOU? You need to understand that I am not part of some "elitist group". I like to have a laugh every now and then, but you don't make me feel good about myself. After hanging with you for a while, it's almost like I need to start writing a list of things I need to make up for, for fuck sakes. Bottom line? Small doses.

3. Let's not forget about YOU either. You need to understand that your Lifestyle is not mine. You are an acquaintance with responsibilities. Stop jerking me around, ok? You want to get it all off your chest? Awesome. Take your best shot at me. I suggest punching me in the temple. It would be ironic to get hit in the head by you, since most everything you do gives me a fucking headache.

4. And finally you. Accept that Time is going by. Stop with the frigging around. Others are going to say shit. Others don't know, ok? You got that? Frig man. Are you going to let others determine how your Life turns out, just by their demeaning words and equally as shitty actions?

I apologize for the foul language. There was honestly no other way to type this.















Ciao

I was scared but once I thought about, I let it go

Song of the Moment


Don't know who left their heart in my backseat, scribbled on the window. If you need it back, it's still there. Only shows on rainy or foggy days, ironically enough.
But it is still there. Just let me know when you want to pick it up.


Ciao

Work work, money made

Song Of The Moment

DISCLAIMER: After writing this, I realized this is just one long-ass rant, and probably meant more for my own mental well-being. Continue at your own risk.

Wow, having 2 jobs is tiring. Having your 2nd job belittle you, pile extra work on you and deny your request for a raise is not only tiring but frustrating as well.
Today is my day off from my Primary job (The one I like), but I am committed to doing work in the evening for the second job. I am currently getting paid the same amount of money I have been getting paid for the past years of manual labour, but now, the work has changed. I am now filling out Project Manager templates on a nightly basis, even though I am currently not a Project Manager.
Not only has my request for a raise, to match the additional duties I have adopted, been denied BUT my requests to have additional taxes taken off my cheque has been overlooked on enough occasions for me to give up even trying to ask for this simple way to not get screwed when Tax time comes. I mean, seriously. I may get paid 150-200 every 2 weeks. They take off NOTHING for taxes on this amount! If I work 40 hours every 2 weeks (expected amount of work for a part-time job), I get paid 350 dollars and have 5 dollars deducted for taxes!!
So, with all this in place, the question is : Should I feel the same amount of pride I used to feel for a job well done? I remember the days of stripping and waxing a floor and when done, looking at the shine with the thought "Nice, *I* did this", and feeling a sense of pride, of a job well-done. Obviously, the quality of work has no affect on my outlook of the job, since management feels the right to "wring the most out of myself".
Why do I continue working this thankless job, you may ask?
Well... a little background is needed.
I am a single Father, paying Child Support. 5-6 years ago, when I was only working one minimum-wage job on Jewels farm, I discovered something called a "Re-calculation" program, through Maintenance Enforcement, where I dutifully pay my child support twice a month. In signing up for this program, the amount of Child Support I pay a month would be determined by Mine and my estranged wife's income tax returns, instead of a set #. More of a "Ok, if I get laid off, the amount of my support payment would be adjusted, so that I can still afford to buy food, etc." clause.
Which was perfect at the time of introducing it to my estranged wife, since the amount of support payments I was told to pay exceeded my monthly income of working on a farm for 6 dollars an hour.
Awesome.
Quick fast-forward to a few years later when I ended my job on the farm and started my FULL-TIME LIKED job. My Support payments increase a bit, expected behavior and something which was do-able. Life was looking up. I invested in a truck and accepted a part-time job offer with my NOT-LIKED job. The Part-time job basically paid for upkeep on my new truck, the the 2nd used truck I bought as well.
Unfortunately, both trucks, being used, broke down. I currently own a small hatchback, bought used as well, which has very little wrong with it mechanically, but cannot be used for work-purposes, due to it being a car. Now, with the 2nd job in place for 3 years, my support payments have doubled and I really only NEED to work 1 job again.
The place where it stops being logical is, in order for me to only work 1 job, I need to pay the doubled child support payments for a year, with only 1 income.
So, now that we're up-to-speed, this is my situation. I can keep working the 2nd job and ask that they take off extra taxes, but, in trying to, become frustrated as the requests get over-looked. I can ask for a raise to match the "new duties" I have been given but, wait, I already did and was told "N-O". You would think since I was the one who found, introduced and signed up for this "Re-calculation clause", I could ask them to terminate it, but apparently not. Weird no?
OK, wait, maybe, if my 2nd job's boss won't give me a raise and is not so good at remembering to take off extra taxes, I could ask my estranged wife to be lenient on my child support payments for a year, so I can leave the 2nd job and get my budget (and deprived sleep schedule) back on track?
Now, I want to make this crystal clear. I am currently getting along with my estranged wife very well, joking with her and showing a very composed and well-adjusted model for my Daughter. But, unfortunately, even though I am only able to pay 2/3 of the child support payments currently (which my estranged wife has made no issue about), this affects the overdue balance ZERO. By paying what I can afford now, the remainder goes into an "Overdue" amount on a monthly basis. So, if I can only pay 230 a month and the amount is 350 a month, the remaining 120 goes into an overdue pool, which needs to be paid. That is 1440 dollars a year, even though I cannot pay it adjust-ably.
ON TOP OF THAT, since I am now in a higher tax bracket, with no additional taxes coming off my 2nd income, I owe alot in income tax and will owe more on a yearly basis, until the Government decides to do a "wage deduction" to pay for it, like they have been doing for the past few years with my GST cheque. The child support payments will more then likely follow suit, if the "Overdue amount" continues to rise.

In closing, this sucks. And in so, I have absolutely no tolerance for stupidity and ignorance. These 2 things are costing me alot of money on a monthly basis.
Money I could be using to buy, oh, I dunno food. But that's ok, I barely have enough time to eat "food" in between these 2 jobs, even if I did have that luxury.

..... am I pointing fingers? It may seem so. But, I would ask in my defense : Am *I* doing something wrong here?






Ciao

I used to think the world was flat .. rarely threw my hat into the crowd

Song Of The Moment

Hey there old friend, whom I have never met.
Even though I know you are not there, or cannot type back, s'ok, just felt the need to let the words flow out and the assurance that someone actually read them, understood them and let the message affect them.
Wow, thought I had alot more in me then that.
But, I guess the thoughts I had a few moments ago are now gone, buried under other stuff, not to be thought of until late at night, when the only thing to say them to is the darkness.
Ahhh, there was a bit more in there, .. thought so. I trick myself sometimes, making myself believe I'm ok, but I always know I'm being lied to, I see right through myself.
I.. I just hope that my Life was for something. It all seems to be rolling up so quickly, 2 years goes by like 2 days, until you see the datestamp on that christmas picture, and realize 8 seasons have passed by.
I should have taken more risks, rode against the wind, walked away from the safe and took a wild ride. I'm mourning that which I never did or remember, almost like it was stolen from me.
Ok, I think that's all. I hope you had a Merry Christmas, friend. I hope to think of you again soon.






Ciao

Once there was a way to get back home

Song Of The Moment

Another night. What new things will I find under this layer of dust?
The little one is sleeping, dreaming dreams far bigger then I could ever imagine. The little one is not so little anymore either. Words cannot express the joy she brings to my Life. Watching her grow and learn and laugh brings light to my solitude. My self-made solitude.

I can't even begin to count the times I have sat here, late into the night, looking out the window, wondering why? Why just me? Can't I have someone to come home to after a long day of confusion? Can't I have someone to make the day less confusing? Memories, to me, are always in the most vivid of colors, while present day events seem misted in grey.

I wish I could understand what this is all about. I want to see the Big Picture. I want to know what this role I have is. But I can't. All I see is what I have. I have a responsibility to be her Father.

So, no matter how dark it gets, how lost I may seem or how alone it may feel, I do have a role. And that can and does bring peace.











Ciao

When I pick up the phone, there is still nobody home

Song Of The Moment

Wow, so, I wrote this blog post, about a week ago, not quite sure how tired I was ... but apparently, I was too tired to actually publish it.

And, so it sat, for a while, until I *stumbled* across it tonight.

"Ever have one of those nights where you sit down and really look at your life ... and realize that you've been lying to yourself for a long, long time. What you think you have is just an illusion, and all you really do have is just a bunch of good memories and that feeling of being alone, totally and completely alone?
... well, that would be me tonight."


Sure glad you're doing better, Mister Fiend.

Who was dragged down by the stone

Song Of The Moment

I tried to help you. You lied to me. I tried to talk to you. You yelled and threatened me. Lesson learned.
Normally, I don't categorize people. So, I think in this situation, I will need to keep this memory in mind. The memory of me wondering if you were going to break into my place, steal my stuff, slash my tires....
Don't get me wrong. You're still my Family. But you have used up your chances. Do not expect anything from me. When I talk about you, the standard sentence will be "Yeah, he's my Family, but we don't talk anymore. He has gotten into some bad things and he's not welcome in my house."
I still have hope for people. One person who continuously decides to mess things up won't keep me from trying to help people. And, I have no doubt that there will be others .... friends, women, maybe even other Family members ... that will show their true colors to me.
And that's fine. It actually makes it easier on the head. I don't have to wonder if this person is going to directly affect me. I can just cut the tie and carry on.
Of course, there will come a day when, miles down the road, you may think everything is forgiven. You know what? It is forgiven. Because, you are not allowed back in the trust again. It's been reset back to zero, and you are on the outside.... you are not allowed back in. You have proven who you are under your thick mask and you can keep that person on the other side of the door.







Ciao

I dont care what you say, I dont play the same games you play.

Song Of The Moment

Dear 3 AM,
Stop making me stay awake, ok? I have work tomorrow, and I don't really care about all the old memories and frigged up things that I can't fix, ok? I really don't want to have to distract myself away from your annoying presence each and every night. Seriously!
Maybe if you showed up with a better outlook, I'd be all right with your late-night visits. But you're so down and depressing! For once, can't you just take a break? Don't you have someone else to haunt? I mean, before you showed up, I was dozing off in the chair. Now? I'm up, trying to fix all the crap you're breaking.
You're a lousy houseguest, you know that?
And, it's always the same ol' stuff with you. "What are you doing?", "Where are you going?", "It's too late, you know?".... get some new material, ok man? Let's talk about the weather! ... or even how the day went! Anything! Let's just not go over the same old broken things we go over every night. We didn't find an "answer" last night, did we? You think we're gonna mysteriously find one tonight?

... wh-what's that?

yeah ... they *were* good times....

Ok, ... maybe ... maybe we can stay up for a bit.








Ciao

He's a real nowhere man, sitting in his Nowhere Land, making all his nowhere plans for nobody.

Song Of The Moment

Yeah so, trust has become a slight issue with me. I am of the thinking that this lack of trust has alot to do with my adaptability and willingness to tackle something new, ironically enough. When you realize that everyone has their own little goal to accomplish and "you" are not a part of it, you can really see what needs to be done, how to get it done efficiently and done right.
I guess it boils down to this. We all were born. we were all innocent at one point in our lives. Then something happened, something got "book-marked" in our adventure ... and that something made us/makes us who were are today. So, when I say I don't trust, it's the action I don't trust, not the person exactly. We all still have that innocence in us. It's just covered up with years and years of filtered logic.
What really sucks is the "noticing". Seeing certain looks, certain body movements that indicate a falsity. You know what I'm talking about. A rich girl drops her purse by an old bum and tries to keep her composure when she picks it up. But, if you're quick, you can see "the look", of disgust, of rejection. Under that look is the innocence, all buried up. She can't uncover it, either. It's the plate on which the sourness is piled on, too far down now to even try to think of anymore.
And where does that leave me? Well, for starters, I got a clean slate everyday. I've came to terms with my sour'd ways a while ago, so when I wake up, the starting gun goes off and it's time to get my goals accomplished. ... ahh, but what *are* my goals exactly? I only want to make people happy. Maybe, if I can show you how easy it is to stop thinking of your own self-righteous, self-fulfilling goals and begin to think about making someone else smile, or be at ease with their current situation, I have will have brought the whole mess full circle.













Ciao

Why should I be frightened of dying? There's no reason for it, you've gotta go sometime.

Song Of The Moment

I don't think many people can understand how much of a hypochondriac I have become. With people passing away recently, mysterious pains and lumps have become my obsession. A traumatic obsession. I'm only 36 and I have slipped into a phase of obsessing about death. Not normal, healthy or rational, but a reality, none the less.
I guess the big reason behind this is a double-edged knife. So many things I want to accomplish, paying my debt, owning a house, traveling, meeting people. But I continue to see things on a "Time-limit". And when I hear about someone my age dying? Total mind-f**k.
I really, really don't want to obsess about dying anymore. I'm only 36! I have a beautiful Daughter, an awesome job. I have options on how I want to make my Life better right now. I guess when the only person you have to talk to about your weird obsessions is yourself, the advice can be kind of sour.
If someone were to ask me a year ago what my biggest concern was, it would have been an easy answer, "Seeing my Daughter". Now, a year later, and the cards have flipped dramatically.
I really hope, a year from now, I can look back on this and say "Well, that was pretty stupid of you now, wasn't it?"
I really do.






Ciao