dad says you have to live day by day. ever since the divorce every word exchanged between my father and I has carried a solemn tone to it. it's almost as if the words weigh more than they ever used to. in my mind, what I used to think of as a fallout should be in actuality just 'falling in' to a new way of thinking. the weight of the new words are the byproduct of a wisdom that has come out of tragedy. this is good. it just has taken a while to grow accustom to this change in tone and intent.
one of the reasons I seem to always take a liking to living the past is the fact that emotions are far more extinguished in retrospect. this leads me to believe that I must not handle emotion well in the moment. you guys aren't surprised. but I am. emotions burn me less when I can relive them safely from the Now. some nights, I sit with a bag of popcorn and watch the past from the comfort of my own bed. so what good does this do? i'm beginning to figure out that it does none.
back when the entire situation was present, I seem to recall one evening in particular that has stayed etched in my memory. my dad was picking me up after work (this is when I knew there was something going on between my parents) and nothing was really said between the two of us but the songs that were playing in the car explained everything. at the time I found it very comical. I was silently thinking to myself that I was sitting in a car with a man caught in a mid-life crisis who just went out and purchased nazarath - 'love hurts' and guns and roses - 'november rain'. to me, this was a priceless moment. it was the moment I knew for certain that things between my parents weren't going to work out. as we continued to drive, I began to think about how much my life was going to change. I was only in grade 12 at that time all I wanted was nothing to change - I was content with stability.
'why doesn't love last dad?' was the dumbest question i've ever asked my dad. the words escaped my lips before I could contain my rational side. I have a short circuit in my brain that causes me to go on verbal rampages -- mauling whatever poor soul is listening to me at the moment. my apologies guys. anyways, these words are very difficult to discuss with parents. love and sex are no no's because they are what you are the very byproduct of. talking to your parents about love, emotion and sex is the equivalent to throwing a microphone up to the very speaker it is connected to provoking a highly annoying squeal termed feedback. but when tragedy strikes, your brain farts out nonsense for plenty of years after asking all of these unnecessary questions. deep inside, I still do with that I was given an answer to that question I had asked. sometimes I certainly do believe that love could have possibly not existed at all...so what was 'lost' is really just an illusion.
now I sit here like the old man I am, mere weeks shy of 25 thinking about thinking. hyperbolizing the past. my penis is here and now, I can't play with it yesterday or tomorrow. it's here today! isn't that a great way of reminding yourself to carpe diem?
my apologies.
ha.
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