I’m on a roll. Two posts in two nights. It’s like I’m young again—and this blog is young again.
I watched a sad show, kiddo. It was sad, but it was good. The best movies and shows and books are the ones that make you feel: hurt, pain, misery, desperate, alone. Because those shows are the ones that remind you what you have, and what you’re taking for granted. After I finished the show I walked into your room and sat down and rubbed your back while you were sleeping. I don’t do that often enough, and I realize I am taking it for granted.
Life is good.
I let the world weigh on me, kiddo. I let politics and money and things and relationships and work and time take precedence, when I should not. I don’t know how to change. I am so focused on what is wrong that I forget to see what is right. I don’t want you to be that way. I don’t want you to spend your life micromanaging the planet. You have your own existence, revel in it.
At this very moment, my life has never been better. I have you, and you’re the best thing in my life. I have the love of a wonderful woman, who makes me terribly happy. I have a great job that allows me to pay my bills and provide for you and I, and I can buy you a Garbage Truck on occasion because it makes you so happy. I have a roof and food and clothes and a car and health insurance and a 401k. And I am alive and healthy—I am paying for health insurance for no reason, it seems. We are good. Life is good.
Sometimes life gets you down, kiddo. But don’t allow it to keep you down. You hair air in your lungs and and intelligent mind. Use it.