🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔

You have as much patience as you do Adderall in your brain. And it’s always going to be different when it’s someone else’s kid. It’ll be more fun; less serious, and less consequential.

Certainly not anywhere close to the headaches that you want.

But at the end of the day, you so want them.

You so want that stress. You want that pressure. You want that responsibility.

You freaking idiot. You have absolutely no idea the depth of understanding that you don’t even have on the subject.

But in that there is a certain level of comfort because no one has a clue when they first start down that road either.

There was absolutely nothing that had any meaning beyond just chillaxing and playing checkers with the little one.

But for a good hour or so, you got to pretend. Pretend you were a dad. The checkers/chess/8 other game box set. You had forgotten about it until you went through your room looking for stuff you could bring out to entertain her with, and you found… *that* play set. You managed to forget you still had it.

December 2013. You had finally found a church that didn’t piss you off, found a good Bible study group, and they were doing toys for tots for Christmas. Fresh into the new church you were gung ho about jumping in with both legs. Went to target looking for toys. Saw the Checkers box set, put it in the buggy, decided to keep looking. Picked up apples to apples as well. Some other thing you saw and the ages listed. One was for kids up to age 11. Eleven.

All of a sudden hit you that yours would’ve been 11. You always felt like you would have had a little girl. Such a promising trip to Target instantly ruined. You just took the two games to the register and left. Didn’t even deliver them. Nonsensical across the board.

What others think doesn’t make a dent in that pain. But thank God that pain you’ve suffered from for years and years has finally begun to heal.

That made pretending so much easier.

You really enjoyed it.

It gave you a headache…

… but it’s not one you minded, wanting to share a moment trying to add value to the life of a little one.

You had no idea how deep that wound was. And now, sometime soon… you never will! Lolz

Good nights sleep inbound….. 🙂🙂🙂

It’s amazing when you’re happy and you see how your happiness affects others. 🙂

Put on the nicest clothes you can ever imagine.

The most beautiful makeup you’ve ever worn.

Get in the best shape in the world.

Happiness… is more amazing to see than anything else on earth.

So many fascinating aspects to the world, order and chaos; placidity and turbulence; fire and water. Everyone who was ever born has run some gamut between gregariousness and despondency. Levels of duality are normal when it comes to the slightly higher form of consciousness human beings possess above other mammals cobbled together after over 200,000 years thanks to enlarged brains from various factors like the discovery of cooking, which scientists believed was foundational to cognitive development, functioning as a ‘pre-stomach’, freeing internal body processes up for slightly enlarged organs – including the brain.

There is a difference between the mind and the brain. Well, a difference and not. Consciousness, emotion, higher forms of thought… are both more than the sum of the parts of the wrinkled fleshy material between the ears and the various chemicals sloshing around within it… and wholly comprised by them. And we meet our friend duality once more.

It’s a part of life for all of us…for some the cycle is mere ebb and flow, and for others could be described in terms of torrential positive and negative G forces. Through science, slowly but surely, tiny pieces of the puzzle of our reality seem to be revealed to us, courtesy of our developing intelligence and blossoming curiosity. We slowly begin – well, believe we begin – to understand both the brain and the mind to the point where we are able to soothe various ailments… of mind and body.

She isn’t the crazy one. You are.

The chemicals sloshing around in your modest gray matter bear certification of chronic depression, anger complex, attention deficit disorder, and something else that you’re forgetting right this second. You thought you had it bad until you recently found out one of your jackass grandfathers was a paranoid schizophrenic. And instantaneously some perspective was in order.

She feels she’s dangerous. Prone to hurting others. Her own words were: “neurotocisms, anxiety and depression, rage, sunstance abuse, and a dash of narcisism”.

And…. truth is…. she ain’t wrong. No one – no one – has ever sliced as deep. Never have you come anywhere near so close to a swirling vortex of energy, emotion, and passion like the Crow.

But that’s… not crazy. What’s crazy is how early and easily you sensed that realizing it. And that’s when the third and least understood part of being – the spirit – charged into the maelstrom dragging the rest of you with it.

You knew. You never told her just how early you knew she would mash you to pieces. How did you know? Looking at the drunken letter you never showed her that you wrote to yourself when her marriage ended… wow. You actually did know. Have all along.

Wasn’t much of a letter, you guess. Incoherent, misspelled, and you didn’t even really end it. Added in some guilt from hurting someone else because you’d do almost anything for the Crow that you would never do for her.

Actually humorous in retrospect, lolz 😂

So why are you the crazy one? Well you’re not one to simply put up with being abused, but at the same time with her… it’s different.

You are protective of her, in ways you have never understood. You feel her suffering and you instantly want to heal her. Or be a slow, yet torrential tide of a Placid Lake to engulf her in your embrace when her wild fire gets out of control.

You feel the anger in the range of the firestorm, and… you… *want* to be the one who endures it, because you… actually can – because you know when it’s her and when it’s not her. You can even sense it when you are attuned to her.

You are a born caregiver in some ways, in spirit if not effectiveness. When it comes to her, though… There’s a level of protectiveness that transcends virtually every lesson you have ever learned – but even still, it… makes sense to you.

You simply won’t go away. You can actually handle the slings and arrows from her that might slaughter you if cast upon you by another. And at this point in the development of your feelings, what burns the brightest within you is to see her soothed. Healed. Happy.

And yet… not significantly “changed”. You love her passion. Her Realness. Her desire. You wouldn’t change who she was in a million years in any way other than to soothe her rage; to bring calm to her when her world churns too hard; to bring peace to her when she when sadness tries to devour her.

You honestly feel… more and more… like you were put on this planet… just to be a stabilizing force in her life… just as if you yourself needed some healthy destabilization, lest you get stuck in the rut of your feared Ennui.

And if this is somehow so, what terrifies you the most… is the feeling that your purpose in life has already been failed… because she rejected you.

And yet here you are… the meaning of your life in danger when hers is placed in danger.

You will never not be in love with her in some way. It’s crazy because the new heart… is hers too… it’s just bigger. To incorporate armor. As if the pain was to temper the steel; to forge it into what can handle anything she throws at you with the smile, calm, and peaceful temperament that you can only be if you were a better man – what you desperately strive to be anyway.

And though you are biased… you just might perceive a tiny bit of the scaffolding of His Plan.

But if you have already blown your chance… you still have a job to do.

Make her laugh. Smile. Encourage her every turn to follow her dreams. To calm the fire in her heart when it begins to boil over. Be her “officer” in whatever way she will have you.

Be what God would have you be in her life.

And you have too much joy in yours to keep it all to yourself… 😊

Irony. Misery loves company. Just as much as Happiness does. 🤔

Duality.

Interesting… 🤔🤔🤔

Don’t take her away. She doesn’t know what she means to me.

The Damage is done. That ship is going to sink. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. But soon.

It’s not because of you. The iceberg was struck long ago. Grinding into thin metal meant for happy times and joyfulness; not armored for battle.

Realize what you are encouraging… and what you’re not.

Her mind is made up. Has been for years.

You’re still pissed. You just haven’t wallowed in it. since Monday. First step in getting past it.

Well, get past it faster.

You were not meant to be with a treasured wife or have children. Feel it. Admit it. Know it. If you’re wrong, that’d be great. But now’s not the time.

Give her no impression other than what she needs from you.

Be wise enough to be what God wants you to be for her. Feel bad that they struck the iceberg.

It’s. Not. On. You.

Be the example you wish to set.

Be True.

Carry on.

Never would have thought a November 18 would be a return to bitterness. 20 years to the day since nothing short of a miracle happened in your life, and for the first year since, you have anger in your heart. Nothing about Nov 18 changed. It’s still meaningful. What has changed? The aftermath.

For years, you thought she was an antagonist you’d defeated. She abandoned you. You did the right thing and she did the wrong thing. You overcame the depression the wound deepened in a spiritual experience that you can’t describe as anything other than a miracle. Such a satisfying narrative isn’t it?

Well now where are you? Yay, you got your piece of paper. But since you did the “right” thing, you aren’t a father. You never got married.

YOU of all people. You who’d dreamed of marrying little Kelly Jacobs all the way back in the 2nd grade, and who held a passion for romance and finding “her” ever since. You who… *knows* you were put on the planet to treat a woman you loved the way Dad treated Mom for 45 years. You wanted kids too, but they came with the dream – they weren’t the dream.

But what you would give to pile the wife and kids to go to a summer vacay in Washington DC like your dad and mom did when you were a kid. Or to Orlando to see JFK space center and Disneyworld. Or like every Thanksgiving still is. Along with every Christmas where are you do your best to act like a kid to at least give your parents reminders of memories of your childhood since they won’t ever see grandchildren.

And even that would be fine, but for the splinter in your soul. You’ve truly only been in love with two women in your life, but that damn splinter…. has driven you to hate. Hate the way the way that their “choices” treat them.

Whether it’s not wanting to spend the money for a spouse to be on their fucking health insurance, or a parasite lying about fucking having cancer to win an argument and get a free ride, you are absolutely sickened every fucking night you sit home alone while disrespectful pieces of shit get to disrespect the women you’ve loved every fucking day.

There’s no way in hell a guy can respect a woman that always takes him back no matter what he does. There’s no way in hell a guy can respect a woman that’s afraid if she gets a job he’ll just take all her money for his “bills”.

Guy. Not a man. A Man is what your dad is. If mom wants something he works his ass off and gives it to her on a silver platter.

Now how the hell is it selfish to want that??????

Along with a fine little fuck you that both of them say they dream of you being happy in the arms of the other one. Oh yeah, that makes it all better. 😒

And you stare bitterly at the past; how the hell could that ever be a thing? You don’t get to have kids; The other guy stole her just long enough to trap her and she won’t leave for at least another four years. Spent their 20th anniversary at a fucking Japanese steakhouse the night before because he didn’t want to ask off a weekday.

Then you stare bitterly at the present; how the hell could that ever be a thing? Takes a real fucking self-destructive person to throw a deadbeat out and get back together at least 10 damn times and thinking things are ever going to change. Answer is always the same, some “he’s just the one” mystical horseshit connection so she can avoid giving a tangible reason for being so fucking stupid over and over again like she was still in damn high school. And God help you if you upset her because she’ll just send you more pictures of them screwing or her shaving her cooch getting ready to fuck him literally just to hurt you.

Hell yeah you’re fucking bitter. You got torched good enough the first time to shut your heart down. Salvaged something amazing out of it And desperately clutch a hold of it as tightly as you can because it’s the closest thing to an actual accomplishment you have.

And…..nope! Not even a year in and she regretted everything. Too late. Locked in with kids. Oh well. Oh what might have been had you just fucked her brains out like you had been doing like she wanted before her preggo scare and you’d begged God for more time.

But no! You are a good little Christian and did the right thing… So now you get to fucking suffer…

And then over a decade later you find the woman that could literally bring completion to your life. Who was chaos where you were order. Who was Yin when you were Yang. Who was north when you were south. Who was left when you were right.

Who was your other half… in ways you were more certain of than you were of your own existence.

But naw. Just because reasons. Reasons that are absolute bullshit and you know it.

So what’s the point? What’s the point of being the man you want to be? For the woman you love… whoever the fuck she is? Keep Holding to your truth and you’ll die alone, idiot.

Take a deep breath. Now another. And another. Breathe. What’s a Man trying to be a good Christian to do?

FUCK ALL, THAT’S WHAT.

Spirits of Darkness. Of Fear. Of Hate. Of Loneliness. FUCK YOU and everyone you’ve ever heard of.

We live in a world so screwed up that you can be banned on Twitter for complaining about some freak dressing their kid in drag for a tranny dance off, and you want to hear what’s rebellious?!?!?

When loving your fellow human beings who are made in God’s image just isn’t enough? Go fuck yourself.

You wanna be rebellious??? Standing up for what’s right in a fucked up world is what’s rebellious. Standing up for what’s wholesome. What’s healthy. What’s responsible. Yeah *that’s* the act of defiance these days.

Bring it, motherfuckers. I ain’t that kind of Christian. Not anymore.

I don’t even care anymore. Haven’t checked match.com in over a month because I just don’t give a shit. The woman I love has decided I will die alone. Fine. Maybe God will deliver me from my enslavement. Maybe not.

All’s I know is as I look back on my life, I’m an entitled piece of shit if I have ANYTHING in my heart but Thanks. Why? Because FUCK YOU that’s why.

I desperately want my other half in my life. But I don’t deserve jack squat and thank God I’m wise enough to know it.

May she find happiness. If not from me, then someone far better. Who truly loves her. And who will at the very least fucking take her to Hilton Head for their damned 20 year anniversary.

And please purge me of my anger, Lord. It does not become me. I cannot help those I love so deeply if I hold it in my heart. And that’s all I have left. Which means it’s more important to me than anything on earth.

Now let me get some damn sleep. Well, if it be your will. Amen.

And if not… God bless YouTube and five hour energy tomorrow.

Way. It. Is.

This is the 20th anniversary of a true miracle in my life and all I can do is complain.

Please forgive me. And any blessings give to them instead. If I can’t have meaning, then get this shit over with.

In Your way. Not mine.

Blessings for all.

Good night.

Leave me alone for one week, chaos. Just one fucking week. So many people I’m trying to be there for. I don’t really have any other purpose. I get it. But please just one fucking week off.

And you know what – if not? Bring it.

Apparently I asked for this. Let’s have it.

🤣🤣🤣

https://youtu.be/xuZA6qiJVfU

Who’s gonna tell you when
It’s too late?
Who’s gonna tell you things
Aren’t so great?

RIP Rick Ocasek. Ever since I was a kid, you gave me some of the best sounds of the yearning to find her. I would sneak my Walkman into bed and listen to WNOK’s late night love songs and dream of her.

35 years in… and I still keep failing her. 😔

I wish I didn’t even care anymore.

True sigh of relief.

Life.

And he’ll be all in. Supposedly.

So thankful.

You’ll have a screaming infant for a while, but the best outcome. The literal best outcome you can imagine. If it stays that way. Prayers every day.

And prayers for thanks every day.

Thanks that you can actually change. Grow. Move on from the past.

18 years ago, you secretly sighed with relief, knowing you could argue for life without fear because it was a lost cause – but you knew it was a lie deep down. This time… you would have have had it in you. Under even worse circumstances.

Still so many hurdles. So many things that could go wrong.

But one single splinter has been stuck in your soul for so long.

You can now finally forgive yourself for being so full of shit years ago.

All the stress of 2019….. but finally you can let your biggest wound heal.

Thank you, Lord. So much.