Thursday, September 27, 2018


Life is busy. Get after it. Today was a good day ((minus the drugged up psycho trying to touch Jillian’s tits - while she was holding Sloan). I wanted to flatten that fuck - but he was drugged beyond repair. Worked out. Got up late with Sloan - like 740. So nice. I wish I could breathe better. This illness must die down. 


Wednesday, September 12, 2018

time vs desire

I’ve had a hard time recently, carving out the mental mettle needed for this blog. I started it in 2003 - just before Sarah and I got married. 15 fucking years ago. A decade and a half. Wow. My friend Jon turned me on to blogging, as a way to chronicle what was happening in my life - and to just let the words out. Untainted. Uncensored. Unshackled. But now - I think I am coming to a place where I think I don’t need it. 

But I almost say that with a bit of sadness and trepidation. I don’t want to not need it. I’m damn sure this little voice box/thought tank saved me a few times. It was a mental parachute. In my dark days in cobourg and St Catharines - and walking across the niagara street bridge - and working in a call centre and living in various private school dorms - this was my happy place. 

My days are very different now. I feel like time
Has careened into an unfashionable league of measurement - and like the soap opera, it truly does slip through my finger tips. I have a beautiful partner. Our love was very intentional from day one - from the moment we met in the dark din of the Black Dog in Manotick. And 6 months later when we realized we were having a child together. Excitement. Fear. Gut worry. Elation. Coping. Anxiety. Bewilderment. Awe. 

But through it all - the binding, guiding force of love. 

And that love created a smaller love - another human. And wow - she is something else. I have a hard time putting my thoughts into words when it comes to little Sloan. She is beyond speech. She is a feeling and maybe some kind of technicolor that supersedes the rainbow. 

And we live in a lovely house - just across the pond from Ottawa. It’s amazing. But some days, it doesn’t feel real. I think we always gravitate to what we know. And we are building something. 

I don’t know if I can say goodbye to gravenrecs yet. But the end is most likely night. 

Bless up. 

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