As a child, I’d often think about good times I’d had in hindsight. and recall exactly what about them was good. So many of my days would end with nights where I laid and reflected… why did my day go that way? What did I do? Did I do anything wrong? Why was I their disciplinary focus, but not Sister? I couldn’t figure it out.

This continued through years where people died in volumes, drug addictions became obvious & chemical addiction education became more available. More “from within” insight gathered collectively on what I’d “just seen” each time, even at that early age. It broke my heart, made me want to hide & motivated me to subconsciously reject myself outright, every which way. Almost instantly, I got to doing what felt best…… fighting.

Several times, I’d sign up for a local gym’s “fight night” then train for a couple weeks. After Dad’s passing, these fights would happen at random gyms, sometimes where “friends” trained. I was typically unknown by all but a few, wherever I went. During my walk to the ring, I’d envision my opponent devastating me. I was walking into some of these rings as the long-haired, funny-looking white kid no one knew. Yet, though I wanted so badly to win, I didn’t want to get hurt in there… and I fought like it once each bout started. In all but one stand-up bout, which went to a draw, I finished my opponent standing… or outscored him on the cards. Each time, the entire time I was in there fighting whoever it was… I’d think to myself “Dad, where the f##k are you now?!?!?!”… and I’d just get so MAD.

Before ever showing any signs of systemic biological malfunction, I was in there risking bodily injury… simply because Dad “abandoned” me, and I was still pissed-off about it. Then, once the time came to sort out the “brain issue” (not some stupid, emotional thing), the workload got heavy. As a newly-singular young working man, I was free from the dishonest harlot that would’ve probably curb-kicked me anyway. Once liberated, I met another… then, I recognized I was on another dead-end path & re-routed, as quickly as possible. Luckily… back then, one person I met & had great times with has, for some reason, stayed in touch. The support and nurturing care she’s outright offered for years has helped to pull me through, in so many ways. Our time together counted for her being in the same room with me the first time my heart stopped. What’s counted most since she was there for that… are all the ways she’s helped me “stay on my feet” up until today. Here now, nearly 5500 days & thousands of miles later, so much has happened since our time together. Only the most durably dense & immature could possibly look past years like those. Neither of us do.

At that point, we’d moved beyond each other entirely. Having no will by then to socially reconnect at all, we both went our ways. Each of us instantly found security once reaching “Point B,” starting from “Point A”… no matter how far from us that “Point B” would actually be. When I moved, I knew it was time to go. I just didn’t realize it then… the totality of my travel miles were about to exceed five thousand f##king miles by the end of it all. And, that was IF I wanted to come back to California once gone. Holy lots-of-profane-words.

A world of happenings have occurred since, and I’d have never wanted her there to have seen any of it. She’s seen enough from a third-person perspective, “through my own eyes.” With all the frustration & impending doom I’d felt within during that phase… and all the ways she must’ve felt it through me… her best-positioning was then where it is now. She’s happily married, as am I. Her life has been joyful & enriched, via her union to her spouse. They’ve always been there for me, sometimes on no notice at all. I’ll be eternally grateful to them for how their collective contributions have saved my own life.

In the aftermath of our time together, I never saw any of this coming. If you’d have told me I’d have been depending on these two, her & her new husband, ten-years ago… I’d have told you to sit & spin. Yet, to say that security itself is a myth would be outright negative… though, to not recognize it’s rarity would be dense, at best. Few surrounding you have your own best interests in mind. They’d be at a party & they’d watch you nearly die… then, go back to laughing with friends less than an hour later. Your tragedy would be nothing more than a momentary discussion piece. Your hardships would become a punchline of their socially-spoken “jokes.” Subconsciously, that’s how these people would look at you… if it’s not already how they do.

I’m not quite saying “trust no one,” but I am saying to distribute that trust CAREFULLY. Thoroughly think about “who you’re letting in.” Try to foresee their reactions to you in advance, based on how you know them. If those checks & balances don’t shine, they don’t need to know a thing.

To say that it’s you against the world would be pessimistic. Alternately, defying that notion would be dense. Realize & recognize your spirit & presence for what they are, before it’s too late. We will only live so many years in our youth… and you know you’d hate to look back on a life full of “I should have” explanations. Whether someone now aides you or not, that’ll change… for whatever reason. You must ALWAYS be ready to make adjustments. Please, see it coming. Prepare yourself for life in advance.



“You told me I’m the only one…… sweet little angel, you should have run.”

~Layne Staley