How I became a Real Man

It wasn’t when I hit puberty. It wasn’t when I realized some of the shit my father tried to tell me actually made sense. It certainly wasn’t when I decided to just start telling the truth and treat my father with respect and my wooden form became human flesh like some Pinocchio allegory bullshit. It wasn’t one woman, who stuck by my side no matter what until I matured to the point she actually wanted to be a permanent part of my life.

It WAS when I started taking accountability for my actions, even when I knew I was right. It WAS when I stopped blaming everyone else around me for problems I had, that I could have completely avoided by a different set of actions. It WAS when I started actually listening to women and stopped judging them. Mostly, it was when I put aside all the bs “woe is me” and started deploying my considerable abilities to help all those around me that I could who were vulnerable and could not help themselves.

THAT is strength. That is power. That is what being a man is all about. Praying to God that he gives you the strength to Shoulder the burden upon yourself to impact someone else’s life for the better. Girls are forced to become women by the time they have their first period. Boys 2 Men?? Not even ever guaranteed to happen in a hundred year lifetime. I’ve seen several times the light finally click on for someone in their 70s or 80s after they were told they were gonna die soon, they finally figured it out.

But that’s the cost, to be a real man, to be a good man, is you have to accept that your life is secondary to the lives of all those you care about, and you have to pay that price every damn day.

But, hey guys, its soooo worth it.

Distress

In the last 72 hours or so I have had 3 people ask me to save their life. One of them I was able to help, almost at the cost of my livelihood. The other 2, I really don’t know right now if they are ok. I care about both of them a lot and I am freaking out. This has been my life for the last few months, esp. since Christmas. It’s just nonstop. Calls at 430 am . I’m safe for now, but I’ve been barely sleeping or eating, my hair is starting to fall out. I can’t talk to anyone about everything that is going on or I will lose everything. I have asked everyone I can think of for help and most people have either completely ignored me or literally screamed at me and told me I was a pos for trying to help these people that have no options left. Not everyone. There are two very special women who dropped everything to help me help someone else who was in crisis. That’s what’s keeping me going right now. Barely. I feel the walls closing in on me, I wish I could talk to you A. I really feel like I need to pull the ripcord on my whole situation pretty soon.

To Robin Williams

To Robin Williams,

First I want to tell you that I’m sorry. Years ago after having heart surgery, you posted on social media that you were getting better, I commented. I don’t remember my exact words but it was something like I’m glad you are recovering. You responded to me and said thanks for the good wishes. I thought it wasn’t the real you, I thought it was a troll and I replied by saying something nasty, telling you off for trolling and to go get a life. I didn’t find out until after you had passed that it was the real you who thanked me for the good wishes.

I’m sorry I was mean and nasty to you. I’m so sorry.

The second thing is I wanted to thank you. I learned humour from you and your humour always cheered me up when I was down. Thank you for sharing your gifts and talents with the world and thank you for your humour.

I wish I could have met you and thanked you in person. You are truly missed and there will never be another like you.

R.I.P Robin Williams

Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday!

No, I did not forget. I just… I believe it’s the best if I avoid to text you or call you again. I don’t wanna hurt you anymore.

I really hope you have a beautiful and blessed day. I hope you are super pampered for your family, your friends… and her.

I wish you all the best. I really wish you heal your anxiety… and heal, in general. I really hope and pray you achieve all of your dreams and the ultimate happiness. That happiness you couldn’t achieve with me.

So, I set you free.

Because I love you, I always do. I still miss you. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough.

-L.

Witness

It started with something quirky. I see a stranger walking down the sidewalk from my kitchen window perch. He’s being suspicious, looking all around like he’s on guard. He takes his shirt off, and even though it’s a little warmer it’s definitely not shirtless weather warm and still mounds of snow well preserved by the chill. He looks like he’s getting ready to dispose of evidence, or maybe he’s a tweaker with a need to streak.

About an hour passes and then the shrieking starts from across the
complex way. Bad screaming, the kind when you know something is wrong I can make out some words like get back here, don’t leave me like this. The teens are just starting getting home from the high school, and I see a kid in a red hoodie running around frantically. He pulls out his phone and he’s saying there’s someone that needs medical attention. I’m about to go outside to see if I can help him but when I peak out I see the mail carrier lady is with him and I retreat because I have to go get my own kid in a matter of minutes.

As I do step out the door for the trek to school, I see a mess of first responders by our mailboxes. I fill the neighbors in and when I get back from the pickup there an officer close by that I flag down just to relay what I saw and heard. I’m not sure if there’s a correlation but it seems relevant enough to pass on for investigative purposes. As I’m talking to him, a crime scene investigator pulls up that the cop directs back through the maze of buildings.
I’d like to know what happened myself but this isn’t the space to pry. He gives me my leave and I go back to my little box to make snacks for the kid.

Come and collect what’s left

You know what you get from a life of trying to help people feel better? Just a steaming pile of ‘fuck you I was doing just fine on my own’. I don’t care anymore, this is all bullshit, no one appreciates me no matter what I do. I change peoples lives for the better on a daily basis but sorry I don’t have any tattoos or listen to any cool music. This is all so dumb.

Junkie Whore

I should’ve known better. Like literally the only advices about women my mother ever gave me: stay away from lesbians, they’re crazy. And you aren’t even gay, at least didn’t seem like that when you slept with me the first night we hung out (should’ve been a sign). But you are 100% batshit crazy. Like I don’t think you understand this consciously, but it’s like every single decision you make in life, your thought process is “what’s the most self destructive thing I can do rn?” And of course, like pretty much every other attractive woman I’ve ever met, you absolutely refuse to accept responsibility for any of your behavior, nothing is ever your fault. It’s just all lies and bullshit.

Am I perfect, certainly not. Could I have found a better way to react when I caught you back with your abusive ex when you were blowing me off for a couple weeks? Sure. Did I deserve for you to find every possible way to show how much you disrespect me because I wouldn’t beat you like you wanted me to? Why not, with your fucked up mentality. You would think some one who goes on and on about their history of being abused and all their trauma might actually have some sensitivity towards hurting others, but no not you. I tell you the things I have problems with, specifically trusting to women to not just use me up and move on like they always do, and you just constantly dismiss me because your pain is so much more special. You couldn’t even wait til you got what you needed from me, just another dumb decision on your part, before you start shacking up again with a guy WHO BROKE ONE OF YOUR BONES. And honestly he’s just so gross and ugly from all the meth anyways. Does numbers for my faltering confidence not that you ever gave a shit about me.

I was kind to you, patient with your immaturity and constant self-inflicted drama. I even practically adopted your dog and treated her better than even you do. I tried so many times to help you with the problems in your life, fixing our license, getting a stable housing situation, going back to school to get a degree. And this is how you repaid me, stabbing me in the back an ripping my heart out just to show what a “bad bitch” you are or whatever nonsense. No you’re just a bitch who’s responsible for all the miserable shit in your life. Why? It’s simple really.

What do you call someone who is constantly high on something and makes terrible decision when they are hi, which again is 24/7? A junkie. What do you call someone who sleeps with every guy (or girl) they get hi with? A whore. I thought you were just my little stoner princess i could save through giving you the kindness you were wrongfully deprived your whole life,

Lose you to love me

He said “I didn’t mean to love you less”
And she filled it up with “more.
More sunlight and dropped dreams
More anxiety and forced actions
More mercy and laborious forgiveness.
She became smaller than a speck
In a useless universe.
Soon she wasnt even a blimp
And he smiled because she made the universe
All about him.
She didn’t realize hers was swallowed whole
Thank goodness for other overarching themes.
More books. More chapters
Less monsters disguised as “men.”
Riveting days where the gloom came became boring days that did not relate to the quintessential purpose by the author.
She learned “more” was the right word
Just geared to the wrong
Amused character. All of a sudden she wanted more.
More sunlight. More wind
More peace. More inner, harmonious living.
Less of this silly rant
Less of counting her cyclic gains and losses.

Another person dies and I wonder where you are

Time catapults only a little ways.

The light dims in a life

Until there is no flame.

I’d rather see you smoldering

Than be left in the dark.

And I wonder where you fly to

Where are the crimson red floors now?

Who controls Fate and why did they decimate

My happiness?

Where do you cry to when all the world

Feels large and funny and your choices

So microscopic and fleeting?

Why did you leave me here to rot?

Time isn’t generous to anyone.

I miss your voice

I miss something you gladly wanted to get rid of.

So short is our arrival onto earth.

We barely picked our path

Before Death mocks us at

The doorstep of Life.

All we have is composed of nows

And those get thinner by

The hands of God.

The light vanishes one night.

Gone are the flames.

Didn’t you want to see me become ash?

I’m already riddled with embers.