Another funeral tomorrow. When do they stop? This one is for Warren. He was an Army veteran and he was an alcoholic. Warren drank and drank. He drank until he couldn’t eat. He would attempt to and vomit it all back up. He basically watched himself wither away. Die a little each day. All for the bottom of a bottle. Tomorrow will be sad indeed especially knowing that his life was cut short due to a little sip of a poison.
So my time is up. It’s time to move on from my current job. I can feel it in my bones. I don’t have a direction and I think its ok that way. I just need to wonder, explore, and be free.
So the question is where to go. I’m seriously leaning toward moving to the beach for a year and not doing a damn thing. Thoughts?
(Forgive me for my shortcomings today. I had too much beer last night.)
No matter how much life sucks, you always tell the truth. Truth trumps peace. Your word is all you have left when you’re standing there naked and alone.
I learned a long time ago that it’s really just best to clean out your closet on a regular basis. Deal with what you have to and move on. Life is too short to keep your skeletons. In other words, if I don’t really care to be around you, I’m not going to go out of my way to do so. If I love you, I will make it known. I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve, but I’m not afraid to be bold and tell you what I think.
I enjoy the peacefully, chill moments with friends. The moments where I can look back and know we were alive. Living for each and every moment of our lives. But despite my undying love for moments like that, I will wreck the whole house of cards if it’s fake. I have no problem speaking of the injustice that is living masked. You live, learn, and get the bullshit out of your life. You deserve that at the least.
So, be true. Be yourself. But never back down.
I have a concrete thought that large machines lack the ability to properly clean roads and lots. It seems that when the snow plows are out pushing snow, they continually make the roads worse. The slush and layers of ice that form make driving even more difficult, and since cars think that the road appears clean, they begin to zip up and down the road. Thus causing accidents and plucking my nerves with their stupidity.
Now the road conditions annoy me, but the lot cleaning in front of my apartment really grates on my nerves. The picture below is my “clean” parking lot. If that’s considered clean, then I’m really 90 years old and walk with a cane everyday. The gentleman who cleaned the lot took almost 2 hours to do this. An epic fail on his part, and to think we pay him!?!? In the same amount of time, I could have hand shoveled the lot and done a better. But it’s ok to create ice patch so everybody can bump into each other act like hockey players with their cars. Let’s go!
Jesus loves me this I know,
For the great white snow tells me so.
It’s finally snowing! It was only about 7 hours late, but it is in fact snowing. I’m very excited and I get to go home early from work. Hell yes. And it’s wonderful because I feel like crap. Off to the apartment and veg time later. Man, I need someone to baby me, but that will never happen because I’m too damn independent.
Yes. I can eat alone. I enjoy being alone. It’s not an action I relate to misery or depression. It relates to silence, peace, and freedom. When I’m alone I have the chance to think and not be judged. I can lay around in my underwear and ponder the possibilities of situations without someone telling me what is right or wrong. I can scream, cry, or just be. No mask, just raw. I can just feel the world around me. The pulsing of society that drowns out the beat of normality. Everyone trying to be something they aren’t. No one happy. NO ONE IS ALIVE. When I’m alone I can find peace in myself and live with no regrets. I have no guilty feelings because I took the time to make peace with them. I took the time to learn from them. Turn a negative into a positive. Alone time is my freedom, and my freedom is something that I value at all costs. I love feeling free fall. Like nothing can stop me, nothing can judge me, nothing can dictate what I am or what I will be. The only thing that control me is me. I am driving my life. I’m making my own path versus taking the expressway. I don’t know where I’m going, but I sure know that when I get there I will be home.
So is eating along a problem? Hell no. I relish moments like that.
via rtcrita’s blog
To simply begin with I’d like to say that I love you. I love you very much, but at a distance. Being around you honestly makes my skin crawl most of the time. I do not have an undying need to see you, talk to you, or really acknowledge your presences. I am grateful for all the times that you were there for me and then things that you did for me. Putting a roof over my head, giving me a warm bed to sleep in, and purchasing my truck for me (out of guilt nonetheless).
But some of the things that you did for me, and to me, drove me away. You smothered me as a teenager. After the divorce, you were lonely and scared, which is completely normal. You, much like Ma, didn’t have the physical or emotional means to take care of yourself, much less me. As a result of your unhappiness, I was ignored by you. The fatherly role ceased to exist. You closed in on yourself and shut everyone and every daily task out. You got lost in the bottle and in your thoughts. Thus, I fiend for myself. I became an adult before I had to. I was independent and I was going to do whatever it took to be strong.
Once I gained my new-found independence and I learned that I was perfectly ok standing on my own two feet, I never, ever wanted help again. You were not my father. You were my housemate. I cooked, cleaned, and went about my business as usual.
My first rejection to you is when you wanted me to sleep in your bed because of the pending thunderstorms, which you knew I was absolutely terrified of. As a kid, I thought this was perfect sound. As an adult, no 12-year-old kid should be sleeping in their parents bed. I remember you wanting to “hug” me when we slept. Sorry, but you were wrong. That’s called spooning as adults, and I may I remind you that it’s not ok to say hi in the ways that you did. After I felt that something was wrong, I separated myself from the situation and suppressed as much of the memory as possible. It really honestly wasn’t until this past year that I realized I was 1 of 4. I had been violated in ways that I shouldn’t have been. At least it now explains a lot about how I feel and why I consistently fail at relationships.
The second reason I rejected you is because you never allowed me to breathe. Once I gained my independence, you decided it was time to try to be my parent again. Wrong. You stopped being my parent and I didn’t need you to start again. You were afraid of losing me, or me making a mistake. Well, one, you had already lost me. And, two, mistakes build character and they are good for your soul. Finally, if you thought that keeping me at home versus letting me go spend time with friends (which I actually had free time) was going to make me love you more, you are dead ass wrong. It made me hate you and I still do.
Finally, I don’t ever want you to pretend to be my father ever again. You are an acquaintance that I am required to go see once a year to make other people happy. You didn’t support me when I really needed you to, so don’t ever think for a second that I will lean on you again. You missed my high school and my college graduation and then gave me complete and utter bullshit excuses. I don’t need your drama or your bullshit. You lack of thought about “how your kids would feel” when you decided to propose, another mistake. I may not be around but you don’t ever expect me to be happy for you when you have made a rash, irresponsible decision. Especially one made when your father is on his death-bed. Furthermore, even though you don’t see it, your wife, GoldDigger, is just that, a gold digger. She’ll drain everything that you have and leave you in the end. Personally, you’re a sorry sack of blind shit if you don’t see that because everyone else does.
So before I sign off and bid my final farewell to you, you need to know two things. One, I love you. I do. But I can’t stand to be around you. Two, don’t ever try to be my parent again. It’s a failure waiting to happen. Three, if Ma knew about this, you’d be a dead man walking because I’ve got friends in low places, where the whiskey drowns and the beer chases my blues away, and I’ll be ok.
The daughter that you lost and you never even knew it.
via My First Time