You Dodged A Bullet

 I have this whole big fuck you post all cued up and ready to go.

Contrary to what you might think I don't always spew. I often work on these things. Whatever.

The stuff I've written recently bothers me because I know how wimpy I sound. To people who are afraid to acknowledge their emotions. The "suck it up" people who go through life pretending to be tough, hiding their emotions.

I experience backlash against myself and I respond with  a violent fuck you. It is still there and I will assault you with it soon, but.................I just read an interview with Bruce Springsteen in AARP magazine.

Shit, man - I never thought I would say those words - Bruce Springsteen in AARP magazine. But he turned 71 in September. That kind of truth hurts me. I don't want the people who have given me so much emotional release to age. To die.

Every time one of them dies, part of me dies. That is raw truth. Every time they go, my fear grows because that part of my life dies with them. At some point I will die with them. Completely and finally.

My respect for Springsteen grew enormously when I read his autobiography. I was blown away by how vulnerably he presented himself. He was so honest. And he admitted he has been in therapy for decades. Still is, from time to time. That he has problems and a lot of self-doubt.

Are you fucking kidding me? Bruce Springsteen?

He is creative, he is sensitive, he is intelligent and curious and empathetic.

In this interview he said "I can't tell someone what it's like to have a child. I can try. But that's an experience you have to have yourself". That is just one comment out of many but it got to the heart of where I am at right now. Right fucking now.

It has been an unhappy week or so for me. A time that has shaken me and doubled me over like a drunk puking in the gutter.

Invariably when I go through an intense period like that, the wave breaks and sensitivity takes over. The wave has broken.

I come out of that feeling incredibly sensitive. My entire body is a raw nerve. My brain fights and fights and fights to make sense, to make changes, to self correct. To course correct. Just to fucking understand my life.

Keith and Craig are my lifeline. 2020 is literally destroying me, tearing me up and tearing me apart because I cannot see them. Withdrawal from them is as much a physical pain as an emotional one.

A shot of them from time to time rejuvenates. Resurrects my dead soul and resuscitates me. No hype.

I have had tears in my eyes since I read those words. I teared up a few times as I read the interview.

Because I naturally connect with empathy. And intelligence. And sensitivity.

I am so angry that I have to go back to work tomorrow. I need more time to rebound. The thought of being the phony tough guy I have to be to survive this job turns my stomach. The phony fucking smiles, the phony fucking laughter - I hate it.

I read the interview and walked over here to write. Had to do it.

These are not complete thoughts. There's no theme here. But the words are honest. They are raw and real and tear stained. Spontaneous.

I think that is what life is supposed to be about.