Time for some poetry....

I've lost

Something close

it's great with all considered

All perpetual and bewildered

To my mind I'm fine with.

Belonging is on my mind.

Continuing a course planned.

How can the two meet.

It's where I belong.

It's what's brought me here

Where life spirals left and right

But never down.

I refuse.

All I need is a little bit 

A little more information.

And then I'll be gone like 

yesterday's daisies.

Only to come back

Just a little bit further 

Down the block.

Just a little bit.

Hi my name is John and I found inspiration

I have a friend and his name is Conor. He has a blog called HighFivesThumbsUp that is off the beaten path...for sure. But shit howdy if he's not my inspiration for stick with writing again. Last night was a bugger for me, not gna lie. The post prior to this can vouch for that.

Quick interlude - I just scrolled through my entire blog and it jazzed me up. I forgot how much fun I've had over the last year or so. This fucking economy and the media that fills our head with illusions of the world ending is crap. FOX news can kiss my lilly white, and other things, butt.

Okay, so back to my rad friend Conor. I'm very surprised that this story has not been told yet. Maybe because I didn't want my Dad to know that Luke and Conor hijacked his boat and sunk it. But we'll get to that part.

So we're out at Don Pedro having a yey' 'ol time. I invited LD and CK on a trip that was predominately work people. I was a bit nervouse to have the two clans meet, but have Mattooch in the car for the ride up, made the introductions much easier.

So yeah, camping camping and some more camping happened sometime in July last year. We had a great night camp firing and bending cocktails in our belly one by one until our 6-packs were no longer visible. (That's not true...our 6-packs are always visible.) Everyone had gone to bed except for Luke and Conor. Weird... Conor, I believe you've already told this story, so I'm going to flip this over to your blog and get you some pub.

my-weekend-was-hella-better-than-yours.html

Anyways, as much as I like sappy shit and my imagination. This is probably not the best place for it. While I love my girl like the earth needs the sun. I'll try to keep the love life in word documents.

Summer is upon us and it's time to go camping. I'll be calling on CK and LD for the weird table dice game soon enough, the rest of ya'll happy-go-luckies should just be read to saddle up and ride. Ride like the one eye jack of diamonds with the devil close behind...

Love

Last night I deeply hurt the person that means the most to me. Without restrain, or prior thiought - only reacting on my imagination did I create an embarrassment that now threatens the very dream that I am fortunate to be living. 

If you know me, you know I have a temper. I have a keen ability to create wonderful, descriptive, real stories. This same ability has me standing on a cliff with fate holding me by the collar, and my toes reaching for the firm ground.  

Love is not perfect. It is not easy. It is a constant lesson between two or more parties that must be protected and nurtured. I forgot that. In my most malevolent  moment of weakness, I forgot to protect and nurture what is dearest to me. 

I did not grow up without love. I was loved even after all the stupidity, the foolery, the misplacement. I was loved by amazing parents, grandparents and relatives both familial and not. But I did not learn some of the most valuable lessons of love. One I missed was patience. That one is enough to guide me through a self realization short filled with sorrow, ache, distress that I share with you, hopeful I can prevent this from happening to you.

How finally balanced love is, how off tune it can be. 

I sit alone because of my actions - actions that will hold a life sentence, whatever it may be.

I cannot change the damage I have done. I can not wave a wand and make things better. I am in limbo, until a time I cower and sulk, or prove to her that my love knows no bounds and that my hallow actions were but a great mess of stupidity, selfishness posing as someone who was caring.

I am sick with fear of the unknown.

I love you fannycakes.