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You’re an old man now, and I don’t want to open it up, but I don’t want it to stay shut. I’m tired of these conflicting narratives. Because either I’m insane or we are not on the same page. And I’m a little crazy, but I’m not insane. My memory works surprising well. For traumas at least.
I don’t remember too many good times. I’m not saying they didn’t happen, but I’m saying you’ve got the balance twisted. I suffered because when you shoved, I resisted. When you balked, I insisted.
I’d like to blow the whole thing up, but I’d be crushed if you still missed it.
I’m sorry you didn’t get what you were looking for – that’s a frustrating feeling. I know. But I also know that you didn’t do too bad with the old dice toss. I’ve seen worse. And what I feel is loss.
I was angry for so long, and it didn’t serve me well. Now, I’m spinning circles in a wildflower field, thinking.
What. The. Hell?
That’s the part that makes me feel lost. I’ve been so many places that I didn’t come from any of them. And we all just pretend that’s normal.
It’s not normal. And it’s not cool now. And it certainly wasn’t cool then.
That’s probably why I picked up a pen. It’s the only way I can come close to getting Pandora’s box open. Get Someone to listen.
I can do tricks. I don’t know if anyone is entertained except me, but fuck you, because I do the shit for free. And that’s bad on me. I’m an idiot. You were right about that. You just didn’t know what kind of idiot I was. Not all of us idiots are bad.
I could have been the best idiot you ever had.
Instead, we circle each other forever. No one willing to throw the first punch. And I know now that it’s never going to happen. And that it’s going to get worse. Because when memory falters, we are all cursed.
And there will come a day when your idiotic self will lose all the filters you ever had – threadbare as they were. You will become the myth as you mature. Or you will stop pretending, and then I will wish I had never wished any of this.
Old man. You’ve done good things with your life. I’ve done some shit with mine. Yours looks better on paper. But I like mine just fine.
Let’s leave it like this. There have been days when the sun was like one long hug and the water was cool. There have been days where we laughed together at the absurdity of everything, and we stopped laying bricks in the wall for a few hours. That doesn’t make it all gravy, but it adds spice. Or counters the spice. Something.
It makes it more palatable.
I’m not mad, and I don’t want an apology. I have things I could apologize for, too. And that’s what I learn at the end of this trip.
You can’t walk together if you won’t share your shoes.
And you’re always afraid to lose.
#2minutesgo Tweet it! Share it! Shout it from the top of the shack you live in! I will be out most of the day, but I'll be back...#2minutesgo Tweet it! Share it! Shout it from the top of the shack you live in! I will be out most of the day, but I'll be back...