Let’s get one thing clear, friends: I am not a poet.
But I do have a creative engine that I utilize to rescue me from the seemingly-bottomless pit of despair I often unknowingly hurl myself into from time to time.
It’s been happening often lately; I go through my day navigating situations that would force lesser bellmen to drink (or worse, watch reality television), but in the end, I emerge victorious. Okay, maybe not victorious, but I emerge – and that’s a victory on its own. But there have been days where the weight of recent events prove to be too much, and I just want to fall to the floor and let the world go on without me.
And it turns out I’m not alone. My daughter has been feeling the weight of her grandfather’s absence in our lives recently and while I intend to respect her privacy, I will say this: as a father, I cannot articulate how proud I am of my daughter. She has been battling her way through bouts of depression that would make people three times her age crumble.
She gets it; life really is too short to waste. Death cannot be reasoned with or outwitted. You can put it off with clean, cautious living, but in the end, the end will come for you. That having been said, it is perfectly normal – healthy even – to break down from time to time.
You just have to be sure to pick yourself up and move on eventually.
And now, friends, here’s a little ditty from the recesses of my brain-box.
To every thing there is a beginning and an end.
A piercing birth cry and a final weakened breath.
They matter little.
The moments in-between?
Those moments, my friends, is where things get interesting.
Never forget to enjoy the moments in-between, for they are fleeting and priceless.
Death is forever, and therefore is worthless.
Life is finite, and therefore is priceless.
See you in the lobby, kids…
ONE LAST THING: Here’s my latest Pulp Nation offering. Enjoy.