Kim and I both said when I started this that we would monitor me and check for highs and lows. She said she would be my am I alright, buddy. Somebody has to be pretty tough to tell you you're not alright, buddy. And it's got to be a sneak attack. And they have to be all I'm gonna get this shit done. And when you tell them no, I am okay and this is why and you go into your prepared defense and it's funny 'cause you deflect with humor, you make them laugh so they'll forget about you and it works until later when you walk to your cars and she says, Do whatever you wanna do. I'm just saying you're not okay.
My Dad emailed me. He said I'm worried about you and Slater.
I think this is when I have to (it is imperative) get this shit done. Because.
1. Mom says she's okay but I don't want to worry Dad.
2. If I don't move then I'll just stay.
I think right here right now is void of passion. It is a creek rather than a river. It is water flowing over rocks rather than a waterfall. It is time to feel again.
But I tell myself, beg her (the attracted to drama me), please no drama. be easy on me.
This week I gave myself the award of being the most depressing blog ever in the history of blogdom. Yay, I won. You and me, I say we chalk this up to getting somewhere. We are taking a picture of what I have done on the studio Sunday night and I am going to bring it here and I am going to send it to my Dad. Kim will see it and it will be proof positive I am okay. And so is Slater. He's writing in java and talking to his Uncle Josh about illustrating.
Dude. What's java? don't answer that.
|Yellow Dog Designs Studio, Josh and Priscilla Miller photograph|
Gratitude in the knowledge that sometimes if you have to ask the question then you already know the answer.