Livin’ Life

I think I’ve told you guys about the period of time I was a door canvasser with a political action group. I’d spend five hours a day knocking on doors, and follow it with a couple of hours of drinking. Crash somewhere, maybe home. Repeat. It was a lot of fun for awhile.

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Playing drums in a rooftop jam session. The guy bending over, Andy, ODed a few years later. Livin’ life.

During this time, spending every day with hippies and slackers, when people asked how we were we would say noncommittally, “Oh, ya know. Livin’ life.” Which meant we weren’t doing shit.

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Some Days Are Hard

The tag line on this blog is “I write to stop time,” and as I get older, I find I want to stop time more and more. (Actually, I don’t know if that’s true. There were moments I loved and wanted to hold onto when I was younger. Of course, I destroyed all my journals from before the accident and those are the memories I don’t have.)

I have to begin letting go.

Right now, Wee One is in a phase when she tells me, “You need me!” which means, “I need you,” or “I want you here with me.”

I used to say that to my mom. I would say, “I wanna hold you.”

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