Life just flies. Take your time to enjoy it, young people. Before you know it, you’re middle-aged and your bowels don’t work properly. Fortunately I was gifted music. It’s the music that keeps me young and beautiful.
Our parents aren’t always right. But I think they will do what it takes to protect us. Even if it means lying. Lying hurts. Our parents love us but that doesn’t mean they’re always right.
People don’t like to be hurt. And more often that not, a person who was hurt will attempt to hurt the other person in return. There was a time when my children were everything to me. Anyone who knows me or knew me will attest to how much I loved my children.
It was weird. In both instances that I lost my children it was under the same circumstances. I was living far away with visitations. Then one day the mother disappeared. They were hurt, so they decided to return the favour. And believe me when I say hell hath no fury.
Most people have a hard time of thinking of themselves as a bad person. I don’t know if that is an instinct. Ultimately it matters very little. I was the opposite. I constantly thought of myself as a bad person. I still do today. I am capable of doing conventionally horrible things, and I just might if it means my own survival or the survival of the ones I love.
I knew the only way to be a good father to my children was to do it from a distance. I never should have made children. I’m not fit to be anyone’s father. I have a hard time taking care of myself. But I’ll get there.
Two years ago my estranged son, Riley, reached out to me. He’s 21 now. He’s very much like me. He’s a songwriter with a unique character voice. He’s intelligent with staggering wit.
We spent some time together last summer. It was a week. We’re very similar. We stayed out of each other’s way. We had coffee together in the morning. We didn’t sweat small things. We played a lot of video games. We didn’t have an emotional drawn out goodbye. I don’t think we even took a picture of us together. We still talk regularly and often. I enjoy his music as much as his down-to-earth-ness. I may not think much of his mother, nor did I at the time. But she did an ok job with him. Perhaps it’s his own strong constitution that got him where he is, but I love him and am very proud of him.
Not a day goes by where I don’t think of Veronica and Emily. They are 17 now. They are my fraternal twin daughters from my very short marriage. It was a short marriage because I was severely mentally ill. At the time I never recognized my problems as mental illness. I just thought I was a tad fucked in the head. Perhaps I was. And I’m not hiding behind mental illness either. There are a fair amount of stresses that go with raising twin babies, someone else’s son, on a Retail Manager’s salary. But even beyond that I was emotionally unfaithful. I thought it was ok because I wasn’t physically unfaithful. But it wasn’t stress and mental illness that drove me to do that. I did that because it was a better alternative to what I was living with at home. No one to blame but me.
I carried Emily and Veronica’s pictures with me until recently. I threw them away. I had to. I had to move on.
I don’t know what is coming for me next in life. I blog. I make memes. I make music. I don’t get paid. I’m surviving on a meager disability pension. But don’t be fooled. I am happy. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. I have very little. But I’ve learned that the things I own, own me too. I don’t have a mortgage. I don’t have a car payment. I don’t have to pay insurance. Even if I owned a house free and clear, nothing is ever free and clear.
Please understand I am not shitting on people who have nice things, or a nice home. A nice car. That is great. People work hard for what they have and they’re more than just a little entitled to enjoy the fruits of their labour. It just doesn’t work for me.
So my memes are quite popular. I didn’t expect the kind of reception I am receiving. But you know what? I’m not going to brag about it. I’m done bragging about things that mean little to anyone but me. My memes aren’t ever going to pay my rent. My music won’t. I won’t let it. I loathe the idea of the powers that be greedily grasping at the revenue my art produces. (as laughable as it currently is)
Thanks for tuning in guys. I have a a homework assignment for you. The next time you go to do ANYTHING, stop and think about how your actions will effect someone. That is all.