Mission impossible

Picture this. Never being wrong. Wait, let me rephrase, never being allowed to be wrong. Knowing what happens if and when you screw up you know you’ll catch hell. And knowing others have been and will not get half of what you do.

Knowing that someone above you expects way more from you than you’re allowed to give. And also knowing if you don’t deliver, they’re never gonna get off your back about it, in public or private. Knowing you can’t fail. Having to plan for the worst and be ready for the sh&t to hit the fan at any time.

Oh, and be a rock for others having no support for yourself. Knowing that you will have to give up the only friend who’s always happy to see you to go and care for another who is dying and not know what the future holds afterwards.

And a family that can’t help you because they have their own issues. Impossible mission, hell yeah. But I will find a way to carry it out anyway.

How? Why should I? I don’t know how yet. And why, because I’m me, Mr. Impossible, that’s why. It’s what I do. Rest, relax. F that, I’ll rest when I’m dead.

Welcome to my life. I’m always in the crosshairs. Rant over, I got shit to do. I’ve wasted too much time here already…


Another year

Looks like I made it another year. And a crappy one it was. Crushing debt, Confirmation of a love lost for good. And one never meant to be. Barely surviving in this hellhole of a neighborhood in the grimiest city in the state.

My only constant companion is my dog. And I don’t even get to spend quality time with him. I don’t even want to know what’s in store for the next year. I have a crapload of people wishing day full of happiness I don’t feel.

But I’ll be polite and say thank you and wear the mask once again for another year. And follow this life, hoping that my purpose on this rock becomes clear that I may fulfill it and be done. All I ever wanted was to live a life working in a field which helped make people’s lives better. And come home and spend time with a loving family. Instead, I spend my days listening to bitching about bills and non-working electronics. Sure, I get a good bit of nice, reasonable people sprinkled in too. But not too many.

I may have unconditional love from my boy, but even he reminds me of those I’ve loved along the way. Hell, the wife bought him for me. These days, I’ve got him and the Jack Daniels he’s named after and that’s about it. God only knows how I’ve managed to hold on this long. Oh well, the ride goes on…