WHAT ARE YOU THINKING ABOUT RIGHT NOW?

author=Despite
or you could take your psych meds instead

Right~ Dream on. No mental syndromes of any sort.
Well, now I have a court date set for two fridays from now, and with all of these letters, I think I have a good shot at getting rid of this person.

EDIT: Actually, I just found her facebook filled with more threats against me. Got her fired from work? Have no idea what the hell she is talking about. For god sakes, I am a contract by contract blade salesman, not a bloody office worker.

I recorded my voice. I sound so nasely!

author=Killer Wolf
Wondering if this is ever going to get any easier.

I really like to believe so.

Or maybe we get better at coping with it?

Crts are today, oh god.

This is what sucks about being a guy, I'm not allowed to have cute and cuddly things like that. It is forbidden.

My father told me that he never understood how much the time that he spent with his dad meant until I was the one spending time with him. It is a strange feeling to have, as a son, knowing that the person you aspired to be like/rebelled against (sometimes at the same exact time) is gone forever.

I can't remember how many times he tried to teach me how to tie different knots that he'd used over the years. He told me the story about how he'd impressed his boss at the circus when he tied a bowline to get a stubborn elephant moving, and how you just had to know your way around a rope if you were going out on a boat. Less than three weeks before he passed away, he gave it one last try.

I could never pay attention well enough to pick it up, it just wasn't important enough to me at the time, I guess. After he passed away, I had to find the length of rope he'd been using to try and teach me. I tried tying a couple that he showed me on that last day, and to my surprise I actually managed. All I could think was, why wasn't it important enough for me to try this hard before?

The practice rope has become like my rosary now. I spend a little time each day practicing the knots and hitches and figure eights. I can tie some of them with my eyes closed now, and I find myself re-making some of the little knot puzzles he made for me when I was a child.

He left one last puzzle for me. The practice line is actually two pieces, tied together with some combination knot that I can't even begin to identify. Sure, I could try untying it to see how it was done, but it feels like that would be cheating...also, I don't think I'm ready to be finished with it.

Each time I make an attempt at replicating it, if I start to come real close, I feel myself holding my breath and thinking, "Oh, no... is that it?" Thankfully, I haven't managed to duplicate it yet.

It has been exactly one week since he passed away. One week since he told me he just wanted to sit up for a while by himself. One week since he whistled for me to come back and help him. One week since he began to have trouble as I was assisting him back into the bed. One week since the man who got me interested in telling stories, making games, and even using computers, took his last breath. One week since I called 911. One week since I began cpr. One week since I failed to save him.

How is it even possible for one week to feel like both an eternity, and the blink of an eye at the same time?

Sorry Killer Wolf, I was so exited with a stupid CD that I not even read what you wrote, I am still a tipical adolecent so i understand what you said, but not actually knows how is that feelin you are talking about, I guess memories are different types of time, I guess it is hard.

Love, hate, loss, freedom, torture, death, gain, happiness, sorrow, heartbreak, addiction, obsession, sickness, ignorance, depression, compassion, anxiety, euphoria, the list goes on infinitely.

These are the cards of life and we all get dealt a random hand.

Thing is, we gotta play are cards one by one whether we like to or not. When I had a big loss in life and was wandering from hurtful though to the next, a close friend of mine once said something very simple yet so very true, "stop dwelling".

You can add another inspirational line afterwards, but that is what it boils down to. It can hurt, it can make you depressed, it can shit all over your life, nothing you can do but stop dwelling and move on.

Treasure the memories your father left you, that way even if he has passed away... In a way he'll still live on inside of you, and while I've never met him, I'm sure he had higher hopes for you then to dwell upon his passing. Never forget, but don't let it become too much of a weight in your heart, and if it currently is, in due time the weight will slowly deteriorate until there is nothing left but the good... If that makes sense... *shrug* I'm not good with words.

Such is life.

gimp