I can not, in words, fully understate why i despise inbred, racist, redneck scum so very much. As i sit here this evening to type about the minor altercation that occurred between me and some disgusting, dirty, absurdly drunk, toothless rednecks that live next to me i am pretty much at a loss for words. It’s a shame such hate and ignorance exists. But here in the South that way of thought (racism) doesn’t just exist, it thrives. These people are actually proud of their sheer ignorance and racist thinking, most of them wear it in the contours of their squinted eyes and some just tattoo it. Its so prevalent down here that it is one of the biggest reasons i want to move out of “the south”. Down here ignorance and stupidity are not merely the thoughts and actions of stupid people, no it gets much worse. Down here in “the south” ignorance, stupidity, and racism are actually looked upon as good traits, or “strong beliefs”. People are actually proud of their stupidity and hate, and in any way they can they express it. Civil war flags (that war was a long time ago….just saying), bumper stickers, signs, billboards, stores, parties, banners, ads on the radio, ads on the television, talk amongst individuals in line at the supermarket, these are all common place down here. They even teach it to their children! Once one idiot starts spewing shit from his or her mouth there are ALWAYS other idiots around to agree with them and to add their turd to the shit show. Im almost in awe ( sans respect) – how does one become so proudly hateful? It really is a popular way to be in this garbage laden town live in. I actually felt better living in a city where i heard gunshots everynight. The people shooting had a purpose, not that i agree with gang violence because i most definitely do not. AT all and in any way. But down here the purpose is simply to wear your hatred on your sleeve, as to let the rest of the idiotic, hateful, and scared world of “proud southerners” know you are like them. If there is a bad situation going on, it will get ugly quick. Because the rotten stench of “southern pride” is a far reaching scent and any like-minders in the near vicinity will come flocking, tripping, and stumbling drunk as soon as they catch a whiff. Surely a trail of shit, piss, booze, drugs, and rotten teeth will follow.
Have you ever read about bullets? I mean how they are made. I did, and what i found out will haunt me forever. I thought one day- why do they make part of the bullet out of such a soft metal such as copper? Why not use stainless steel, or another hard material that would penetrate almost anything? Thats when i sat down and learned something i can never unlearn. Bullets, or mostly made up of copper, an extremely soft metal. I know what your thinking, that they do this due to a financial reason. NO. They, or sadly WE, make bullets out of copper and not some other stronger metal so warfare can be “fair”. You get shot with a copper bullet, you can live. If you were shot with a bullet made out of hardened steel, chromoly, a number of metals, you would be less likely to live as the bullet would cause more damage to the human body. So we accept the fact that we are going to kill each other, and we abide by universal laws that acknowledge the horror of war while still making things for one purpose- to kill another human being. Im guessing many people will say this is a good thing, and maybe bring up some U.N Treaty on “rules” of warfare. So maybe i should be happy, bullets could be a hell of a lot more lethal than they are currently manufactured. Countless lives have been spared because of this, for that i am grateful. But what that says about society as a whole shakes me to the core. We have the capacity to globally manufacture a product meant to kill each other, yet we don’t have the capacity for global Peace. I can’t be the only person who thinks this is horrific. Please
With the holiday season upon us and all the thinking, recollection, insight, and people expecting you to put on a nice happy face that comes along with the season, it has kept me from writing for a few days. Not normal, not good., but ill pull through. For the last month i have had a dude i met who if he wasn’t staying on my couch he would have been homeless. I just want(ed) to help him. But unfortunately he couldn’t keep it together long enough to learn something and help himself. The whole time i was helping him, feeling bad for him, giving him things he was stealing from me! I guess i shouldn’t be surprised but for some reason i always see the best in people, i thought it was a gift but I’m growing to learn that it might be a curse. Besides catching him stealing prescription medication and electronics (iPad) from me he went on a 3 day bender to lala land. Im assuming he took a massive amount of benzodiazepines (xanax, clonazepam, etc). He was in such a stupor for three days he could barely walk and talk. And the very nice couch i was letting him sleep on while he called my living room home is now out on the curb waiting for the garbage men to pick it up. He was so fucked up i woke him up laying in a pile of his own shit and piss on my couch. I also awoke one night to him snooping around my room while i was asleep, using his flashlight for illumination. I don’t know what he was after, and i have a feeling he doesn’t either. But even after all that i still allowed him to stay here, i feel bad for him- he’s a human being in pain. But after i found out really how much he had stolen from me i had to tell him to leave. Allowing him to stay here was NOT helping him at all, it was actually feeding his addiction. The last day he was here he was so incoherent he couldn’t talk or barely respond to stimuli. So i had to call ems, i dint want this dude dying of en overdose on the bench out front of my house. So as far as i know he is currently in a hotel, but he could be in jail. He was on probation, and any contact with the police violates his probation. I did everything i could to help him, everything, he just isn’t ready to change. Its a very sad story, but one i see played out day after day around here. I hope he gets the help he needs. If i can help ANY human being from suffering, i will and i do..But anyways- Happy New Years to all my fellow bloggers! And please treat yourself kindly- you deserve it
As I sit at my desk I can see him from the colrner of my eyes, continually nodding out. Hid head comes up for a few seconds, then drops down almost in between his legs. I know that pain. That feeling. Never getting what you want, chasing your own killer. Iv been clean for around seven years now. I am so grateful I finally stopped poisining myself. But the same time I think that I also thjink of the man before me, broken and alone. Desperate, void of hope, nodding out on the couch im letting him stay on so he doesn’t get murdered out there in the streets. Surely he would. In an odd way he reminds me of myself, when I was a junkie shooting dope. Even though this man before me is over ten years older than me he has not found the door I found. Surely by this time in his life he has all the keys, all the “tools” as they say to stay sober. He has a heart of gold, I can feel it, I can feel it like the I can feel the wind rush past me as a car passes to closely when im on foot. I can see it clear as day. Its killing me to see a human being in this much pain, and I mean that literally. He has noone, not a soul left on this earth that cares about him. His parents both died while he was in prison. It took all my strength to open my eyes and get out of bed today. It took long enough. By 4pm I knew I had to do something, anything but wallow in my own self pity, drown in my tears. I got up and made some dinner for both of us as he was sleeping sitting up, his head hanging precariously low to one side of his body, like he was made of rubber or something. Then I woke him up. He came back to life muttering something ill never forget, yet muttering something he will never remember. No words, just incoherent rambles. I treated him as a sick child. I helped him to the table, made him eat like I would a child, talked to him. I know he hadn’t eaten in days, but anyone could have figured that out if they saw how quickly and voraciously he devoured the meal I had made. Then something wonderful happened, something magical. Like an old machine rumbling to life I watched him ground himself in reality. We talked. At one point as tears were running down his face he told me how grateful he was that I was simply talking to him. He told me know one ever talked to him. He doesn’t exist at all in society, not even a little. But here, in my home he does exist. He is a human being just like I. I made him a promise. One I intend to fulfill, my own sanity and self respect hanging in the balance. We made a plan. Tommorow I am going to do everything in my power to help him get the help he needs. Iv told him this many times before but tonight was the very first time he really heard me. The pain and lack of hope in his eyes truly something I wish I did not recognize, yet at the same time glad I did so I could help him. So I knew just how badly he needed help. Needs help. I talked to him as he I tried to get him to go to sleep, promising him there is a tomorrow and it is not written yet. A new day, new possibilities. Once I got him to believe that he fell right asleep. Now as I sit in my room at my desk I realize that theres much more at stake here than it seems. Not only is his sanity and well-being on the line, but mine also. I HAVE to help him. He’s a human just like I am. And by helping him I feel like im helping myself, ever so slightly but definitely a small move forward. A “step in the right direction” you could say. But that’s not what it feels like. It doesn’t feel like im walking and therefore “stepping”, im floating. Im floating towards a great light that beckons me. And him. It’s not death, its life. It IS the will to live. My will to live grows stronger as his does. The same way my soul screams out in horror as it recognizes the pain he is in. I feel odd as I realize I love this man. Im not gay, im not attracted to him. Its nothing like that. I love this man as I love every living creature, and I cannot stand idle while he suffers. It is my duty to help this tormented creature, this human being suffering. So tomorrow shall be a busy day, both physically and emotionally. But it will also be a NEW day. A fresh start. Hope has a way of blossoming and becoming something so grand and wonderful. Im a bit surprised though. Im not dead yet. There is much more life in me than I had previously thought. And just like that hope comes to season, its soothing nature comforting me as I go to lay down on the floor where I sleep. I could keep going but ill stop, where im at seems a good a spot as any.
Its deafening. The noise. As i stare at the blank screen i am assaulted, it screams insults at me. Things like “Your not good enough”, “you can’t do this”, “Your writing is an absolute joke”, “Don’t bother trying, your just going to make yourself look worse than you already look”. The insults keep coming, i could go on and on but for sanity’s sake i shall not. So i just start typing. Anything that comes to mind. It works, already I’m feeling better. It’s like i broke into the page with my first typed word or sentence and now the open page screams out unlimited possibilities. I smile on the inside. No matter trying to figure out “why” this helps me, I’m just rolling with it because it does make me feel good. The holiday coming up, its all about family and love. Because i know it is approaching, and theres nothing i can do about that, it hits me where it hurts most. Evernight for the past 3 or 4 days i see her (my daughter) in my dreams. She is so beautiful and precious. All i want is to be her daddy and love her, all she wants is her daddy and the love and safety i provided her. In my dreams she always gets taken away and never understands why. Her young mind unable to grasp the void carved out in my heart and the reason WHY the void is even there. Its torture. So naturally i start crying…..hard. So hard that as I’m crying in my dream i actually wake up crying. And I’m not talking about just some tears rolling down my face and a hole in my heart. I’m talking about waking up and seeing her for a split second, all the while uncontrollably sobbing outlaid like a child with not a whole in my heart but actually no heart at all. Sometimes its there, but it is black and hard as a rock. Burnt and charred to a crisp by the love she needs that i am not being allowed to give her. Its definitely illegal, but prove it. When it comes to children men have no rights. An archaic system of law and way of thought that IS what these “professionals” are taught. The love that she needs but because of circumstances out of my control at the moment i am unable to give to her. So there i sit, in bed, weeping, Its not just tears flowing from my body but happiness, purpose, ability, strength…….surely theres more. When i am finally done crying my eyes out i lay back down, completely defeated and confused. Confused because on one hand these dreams i have of her are amazing and beautiful because i get to see her. But they are torture because i never get to spend time with here, a certain someone always intercedes and risks her away to a place I’m unable to find. The rest of my dream is me crying uncontrollably while running from one place to the next, up stairs, through doors,down never ending hallways. I am never successful, i never catch her. What would happen if i actually did catch her in my dreams? Im sure i would still cry, but would it make me or even HER feel better? I only wish to tell her the truth as she can understand it and to make her understand just how precious and special she is not just to me, but to the whole world. I was a great father until the state and another parties lawyer convinced a judge i was a crazy, good for nothing junkie who endangered my child. The truth is literally the opposite of that. But here i am. Another holiday season thinking of my daughter, feeling her sadness and anger from not being able to even talk, let alone see her father whom she knows loves her more than anything. Thats what keeps me going- the only reason I’m still alive is because i know she knows how much i love her and how special she is. For five years i showed her that. She knew it. She knows it. I just hope her pain is offset this year by something, anything. Toys, going somewhere, not getting beat by mommy (2 restraining orders). If i could give my life to her i would, right now. If i ever figure out how to do that then it shall be done. I’m guessing if your reading this then you know i spent just about the entire night crying. As i type this the tears build in my eyes and are about to burst like a dam being pushed to it’s limits. My little girl, my beloved one- Daddy is here and Daddy is looking for you. Daddy loves you more than he loves the world and anything and everything in it. You are the most beautiful creation in the universe, capable of anything. I hope you feel loved this holiday season. Daddy is fighting for you, everyday. Fighting as hard as he can. We will be together again, its the “when” thats killing me……literally. My physical health keeps coming up with new ways to decline. Death will be reached soon if i am not able to reunite us once again, my darling. And my family- my father hates me and the only thing i do for my mother and sisters is hurt them. I’m sorry, I’m not malicious at all. They are hurt because they care about me and can see the pain I’m in. Maybe my father is onto something that my other family members should follow. Hating me and not having anything at all to do with me is a lot easier than loving me and continually being hurt. A broken heart really can kill you. I wish i didn’t know that, but i am walking proof. Even my walk has a limp, my legs filled with fluid because I’m so depressed i don’t move enough, or eat, or drink water. Its funny- i can hate myself yet still have and feel unconditional love for my family and people close to me. Is that mental illness? Is that normal? I don’t know nor do i have the energy at the moment to try and decipher it. To anyone who writes on here and is struggling i want you to know that i love you. I don’t have to know you to love you, I know your pain, your deepest darkest fears. Love your loved ones this holiday season. Without that the season is nothing but a change in temperature.
Infinite Potential- What a word indeed. Back when the world glistened, the air electrified. Each new day offered infinite possibilities. It was a time of excitement everlasting, wonder. Why does this fade as we age? I hope this glimmer i speak of is once again felt by me, it in turn igniting the most powerful of emotions. A bonfire of motivation grows stronger, propelling me into a beautiful, wanted future. May it grow, and may it never, ever leave me again. My home is among the stars, just as is yours. No more worries about trivial matters, only wonder. Look up and gasp, admire the lovely, humble circle of life. So infinite yet so,….. natural. Certainly ethereal. However such a system was devised or came to be i will never know. It is not my place to know, only be a small part, like a traveller through time. Will i be lucky enough to leave something to aid future travelers? That i will also always be blind to. But I can see it, that thing you feel. It is love, flowing unrestricted to and fro, bright spots in time. I can see her, i can see M*****. She is so beautiful that i can only weep upon her sight. My senses overloaded, swept away to my core. In that moment the lost are found. Accidents and misgivings reveal themselves, their place in the circle is known. I seek no more. In death there is absolution
Life is funny. One evening, out of nowhere it struck me. Photography. More specifically professional photography (making money with my camera), and realizing how i could easily be a very attractive option for a certain demographic. It was like i was able to see clearly for a moment. And in that moment i saw that i was not only on my way to accomplishing my dreams but i was much further along than thought. I wondered why i hadn’t realized this sooner, as does usually happen with things of this nature. So that night i made a commitment to myself. I told myself i would take better care of myself, not look so dirty and ragged all the time, especially when i left my house. Ill always be a bit “Grungy” i guess would be the word. Thats the BMX in me. My entire childhood till early twenties thats who i was. It completely defined me and i realize now that i helped define it. But anyways that part of me is too deep to ever fully leave. Its a good imprint, even though i know it sounds more like a dirty stain. But back to what i was saying- I had this realization, i made this commitment to myself. It felt great. i was actually being hopeful, which isn’t my usual. Heres where it gets funny and life gets interesting- one of those commitments i made to myself was that i would try to stir up some photography business, specifically weddings. I love shooting weddings and have success with them in the past. S the next day after i had this realization/made this commitment i stopped at this pawn shop that i haven’t been to in atleast 6 months. I stopped to look at computers. And it was a last minute decision to stop there, my “outing” plan did not include this pawn shop as a stop. I walk in the door to the pawn shop and no sooner than my second footstep inside i hear someone loudly “Hey man, how are you?!!”? So i look up and i had to squint because i hadn’t seen this person in almost 2 years. I couldn’t believe it- it was the Groom from the last wedding i shot professionaly! I walked up to him and we shook hands, asked how each other was doing. And then he said something that caught me a bit off guard, for some reason i wasn’t expecting it (probably my low self esteem). The man looked up at me and explained how he wanted some of my business cards. How he was so happy with the way his wedding photos turned out and the way i shot the event that he was “telling everyone about me”. He also said he had been trying to get ahold of me a few months ago because his brother got married. I guess that was when i had lost my phone and didn’t have one for over a month, it figures. Another coincidence? He then told me how one of his co-workers was getting married and that “just the other day he was telling him about me”. All i could do was laugh and smile. Life is funny. Are there coincidences? before last night I had been so depressed and de-motivated, really in a hole. And then out of nowhere I’m swept into a whirlwind of motivation, i have this realization, this feeling that i could really do what i wanted to,(which was mainly shoot weddings with some parties thrown in). Then the next day i run into the Groom of the last wedding i had shot. “Amazing” i thought. I mean seriously what are the chances? When i knew this dude he did not work at a pawn shop, he didn’t even work in the same town. But not only did i just happen to run into him, he told me to drop him off some business cards because he knew of a few people getting married who he had wanted to talk to me about photographing their wedding. I swear to you, the longer I’m alive the less i believe in coincidence. How did this happen? Im not saying it compares to winning the lottery or anything but still…., its enough to make you take a step back. And the great thing was that it was enough to get me to smile and have a firmer grip on that hope that usually leaves me as fast as it arrives. It solidified my motivation. It made me feel like maybe i am on the right track. Who knows? I sure as hell don’t. The only thing i know is that life is peculiar, and coincidences are something that i wish could be scientifically studied. Its starting to sound like i need an “existential detective” to help me figure this out lol. But no, I’m riding with it. I just gotta hang on long enough….
As my legs blow up like balloons i have no choice but to lie down and elevate them. They are filling with fluid at a rate that scares the shit out of me. Im 32, yet i feel as if I’m dying. Trying hard to see that light which is hope, just out of reach. I cannot stand being confined like this but somehow i always find myself in this position. Like a fish at the bottom of a dried up pond, flipping and flopping while gasping for breath. I am that fish. i try and try to turn it around in my head, to see some goodness. But all i feel is pain. Really its the pain i have caused HER and all of my loved ones. I so badly do not want to cause pain for anyone else, but i do. Its like its a natural occurrence, if you get close to me you end up hurt. By something i said, did, didn’t say, didn’t do, or one’s own expectations. It doesn’t matter, you will end up hurt. There was a time in my life when i was not like this monster i describe. In fact it was the opposite- I seemed to always have a positive aura around me and anyone who got close enough to feel it could smile at the very least. Im not bragging, just putting things in perspective. Im just down and out right now, thats all. Gotta heal and gotta do it faster! The reluctance of my mind to communicate with my body is staggering. It really does scare me. Somewhere, somehow the lines are getting crossed and I’m not getting the message. I have not a soul to blame but my own. I feel as if i do not deserve peace or happiness. Redemption- now thats one i really wish i deserved. To right what i have wronged. To untangle the dense, dark web i have spun myself into. To be that comeback story everyone loves reading about. It sure sounds nice. Its just not currently reality, far from it. Then doubt creeps in from the darkness. Maybe i am getting better. Maybe i am growing. Truth be told i don’t know at this particular moment. Sometimes i think i am growing, then other times I’m convinced I’m doing the opposite, that I’m actually sliding into the darkness at the bottom of the stairs. I guess i should quit my whining and give in, it feels so natural, so right. If i do give in then my life’s end is much closer at hand than i would even want anyone to know. Because there i go again, causing pain in the people who care about me. The person who needs me. I need her just the same. To be a father who has had his daughter torn from his life, like a fucking piece of notebook paper, is to be a man reduced to nothing, literally dying of heartbreak. Never thought it was possible. Now i know it is. Im sad for her, NOT for me. She doesn’t understand all this. Hell, i can barely believe it myself. If only she knew how special she was. She did, i used to tell her all the time. Id see it in her smile. She knew that she was everything to me. Now there are people and rules and regulations in place to keep us apart. Mainly people. Bad people. People whom i would make no more, but now i cannot do that. I know it would only hurt her worse. She would yet again lose someone she loves, the rock in her life. I will never cave that ground in again. Because i wasn’t strong enough to fight it off it happened. For that fact alone i condemn myself. Thats why I’m dying. When she lost her Daddy I lost everything, even my own sanity, self respect. I even lost my will to live. Thats what dying of heartbreak is- its wrestling with your will to live as it slowly slips away. Physically, mentally, SPIRITUALLY, it all fades away. If only i could convince myself i was worthy of life, id be just fine. Id hear the word “dad” again, the greatest word i have ever heard by a long shot. Im dreaming again. Or maybe thats hope, making it’s last stand? I don’t know. Dare i say…Hopefully?
These ups and downs are enough to drive a person crazy. Thats the thought thats running constantly in my head. Everytime i feel like i have reached a point where there is hope it is snatched away from me, gone like the wind. Because of that the hope i feel now i am grasping onto tightly, while also not expecting it to last any amount of time that could be helpful to me. Its such a ridiculous, repetitive circle. but i guess i should be grateful that it is in fact a circle and not just a straight line. Besides being boring a straight line would mean no hope at all, or very little with mediocrity being the ground i stand on. This thought, or acknowledgement of my nature brings me to an interesting conclusion. If i had a choice would i choose to be mentally ill, and wrestle these demons everyday while being given this sometimes maddening gift of creativity? Or would i choose to be “normal”, a straight line with peaks and valleys not so extreme all the while being without creativity? Some days are harder than others thats for sure, and no matter what or who you are life has its ups and downs. I know this. But really, if i had a choice what would i choose? Right now i want to say that i would choose to be creative and struggle like i am. But would i feel this way on a different day? Will i feel this way tomorrow? What about next time I’m having a horrible day, would i choose it then? Its not an easy answer. I guess expecting it to be would be an exercise in futility. Im not sure I’m making the right choice, but i think what matters is that i feel like I’m making the best choice right now. I am unable to see another way about it. So really all that does is continue these crazy ups and downs, but makes me feel good in the moment. And its not like drugs or drinking, I’m not going to have a hangover after having a good day. So, here i sit, belly full of cinnamon waffles (my favorite), sipping on dr.pepper as i type these words. Im comfortable, one could almost say i feel good. I know this feeling won’t last but nothing lasts forever, thats just life. Im going to continue to take photos and write today as i please, because it makes me feel good. Or atleast comfortable in the moment, like when i snap the shutter on my camera or i type a sentence onto this screen. In those brief moments i am myself, without all of the bad that entangles my soul. I am free. Free to let my creativity flow and just ride the wave. Fuck the eventual crash. Maybe after all is said and done ill have learned something from this ephemeral changing of the tides? It is a natural process, atleast to me, much more than simply something iv learned to live with. Maybe i will have grown. Thats hope, is it not?
Maybe theres hope. Maybe there is STILL some hope left, even after everything? Maybe i CAN do this. Become a functioning member of society. A functioning member of society who has his daughter. And with hope ,that Daughter knows in her heart that no matter what, her father loves her more than he loves the world, stars and all. That she knows her Daddy would do anything for her, at anytime. Go to the ends of the earth and back if only to put a smile on her face. O to be called “Daddy” again, by my little girl. Nothing else would matter. Nothing else does matter. Maybe one day my hears will be graced with the most beautiful, wondrous, cosmically enchanting sound i have ever heard in all of my life, Her laughter. Why cannot i not just pull it all together and be as strong as SHE needs me to be? NOW. Why not? It truly is THE one thing i want the most when i think about my life and eventual death. I struggle, so deeply disturbed that i forget to eat. For days. What scares me is the notion that I’m already too far gone to ever be anything to that little girl again. This, as i find myself daily frantically pacing the house while thinking, worrying. Why have i not yet been able to put the pieces of myself back together to even form half the man i was? Even a quarter of the man i once was? She needs me and i am not there. Thats the bottom line. In the future it’s not going to matter the reason (bullshit) she was kidnapped from her life with me, what will matter is the time i was or wasn’t there. I can’t and i do not expect her to ever understand why or how this was able to happen. Because lets face it, if i was stronger- It never would have happened. Of course there are a number of circumstances that helped it happen, and the same number of reasons it shouldn’t have happened. But it did. Thats what will be remembered years from now. It won’t be the truth, that “mommy” is keeping her own daughter from her loving father because she doesn’t agree with the way i live my life, and because she is vengeful, spiteful, and feels like she needs to hurt me. The depth of this person’s morality is absolutely staggering, physically staggering when it is realized. Whats even crazier is the system that not only feeds into this type of behavior, but fosters it time and time again. Im not the only Dad this has or is happening to. I know that. But this is my Daughter’s life this is happening to. Therefore it is the single most important thing in my life. I feel myself becoming angry with hope, and its fleeting nature (atleast for me currently). There was a time, a time long ago, that i was so adept at turning all of my pain, anger, and sadness into motivation that the fire which burned inside me was immeasurable, it was truly something special. For some time there was nothing that could dim that fire, and life was great. I truly excelled at everything i did and i knew without a doubt that anything was possible. I was a well known member in a certain community. known for not just my high skill level, but for my personality. The dirt and rubble around me only strengthened me. I was once told by a great friend “James, everything you touch turns to gold”. And that wasn’t far off, at all. If i wanted to accomplish something i just did it. It didn’t matter what it was. i didn’t even understand how i did these things. The only thing i knew was that i consciously converted all of my pain, anger, and sadness into rage, than converted that rage into a will made not of iron, but of a thing so strong and powerful it was awe inspiring. I helped a lot of other kids, my attitude helped many many children (BMXers mostly but not inclusively). I do hate talking about myself in a good light, i just feel i don’t deserve it. But my point is that i am trying, struggling so deeply to find this process within myself that converts pain into motivation. The process that i worked many, many sad years building until it became an automatic response to pain. I didn’t have to “try” to do it anymore, i did that for so long it became “second nature” (even though i proclaim first). And no matter how hard i try or where i look, i cannot find this again. Sometimes i think i feel a remnant of it. It always comes on with such tremendous force that i am rocked to my absolute core .But like hope it is fleeting, it lasts for maybe one second if i were somehow able to “time” it, these events. And thats being hopeful. I have zero doubts when it comes to what this power is capable of. Call it simple inspiration or motivation if you will, but for me it’s much mightier. I know with truth that if i am able to grab ahold of this, and learn how to do it again that there would be nothing i couldn’t accomplish. And what do i want the most? To be a great Father to my Baby Girl, to have one another in each of our lives; For her to know that the most important thing that has ever been and will ever be is her happiness and well being. As if time only exists to prove the deep bonds of love. I cry and cry, knowing that currently I’m about as strong as a turd. Im reduced to a walking and sometimes talking void that is rimmed with pain, torment, and suffering. Short of pulling the plug on my life i can only hope that someday, somehow, she will know the depths of my love for her. Maybe it will make her smile. Just that would be enough for me to be done. I hold out, limping to and fro while constantly feeling like i am forgetting something very important, like dread rising up in me like steam rises in a kitchen. I hold out in HOPE that i will put it and myself together and be the strong father that my darling deserves. That maybe one day i will be there for her, and she shall know it, the same way nothing else can be known as surely as death. Im collecting these glimmers of hope, may they be seeds planted in my soul upon which the strongest tree of all time shall grow, one that brings us together, one that is Pure love.