You don’t see the opportunities when you are young; or at least I didn’t… I doubt many do.

The fortunate who the Elder referred to as ‘Pups brought up around fires’ would just accept their lot in life and accept and expect all wishes and desires to be provided.

The less fortunate would just wallow in their misery and perhaps dream of better times, gazing upon the fortunates as their ultimate goal.

I didn’t know what I was. Mine was elsewhere. I existed to observe, nothing more. I didn’t belong where I was.

My mother didn’t belong there either. She was trapped by circumstance. I was too ignorant to know or see. She told me we would leave when she got better. She never recovered.

Alcohol numbed the pain and stunted growth. It did, however, keep me alive, and for that, I am grateful.

Opportunities abounded and now I see the whole fucking drama for what it was and is… Nothing is as it seems.

I regret nothing. I wish that maybe I could not have offended anyone, but really, how arrogant is a wish like this?

Life is truly a fascinating experience and journey. Thank you, God!

I walk too fast, I think too much.

Questions details about truth and such.

I am Too Much for most; not me.

Right here, there is no choice you see.

I live here in my head that grew.

Large, not wise, absent lies you knew.

Vincent might have been a better writer than he was a Painter, and unless you’ve read his letters to his brother Theo; then I’m certain that you might want to debate. I’m not interested…

I have read volumes on this mans life and death, and never have I encountered so much absolute bullshit and misinformation surrounding one person. This is the problem. If the public and humanity are so easily fooled, then all history comes into question.

Vincent Van Gogh did not cut off his ear and give his discarded body part to a prostitute… There is an actual police report, and the only witness to this supposed mythology was master swordsman PAUL GAUGHAN. Paul was not much for fiction. However, he did manage to fool most everyone with his efforts here.

Paul Gaughan cut off Vincent’s ear and created this story to evade jail. Scotland Yard detectives came to this conclusion several decades ago when they studied the police report. Vincent was too drunk to remember anything.

In the 1960s, the last of 3 brothers died, and on his death bed confessed that it was him and his brothers who accidentally shot Vincent. Vincent took days to die and was conscious, and he took this secret to his grave to ensure that these 3 brothers, his tormentors, wouldn’t be punished.

It’s my opinion that based on these 2 almost incidental examples; that history has a major problem.

The cold bore down upon them.

No signs of heat or heart.

Just murmurs of some warnings.

Like they told you from the start.

But NO! You wouldn’t listen.

And now you know the way.

If only you can get through this!

Just to live another day…

Some will heed your warnings.

Some will pray for shithouse luck.

Some will calmly walk through fire.

Smile sweet, don’t give a fuck.

---

I was about 20 when I heard Robo Jack say,

“I’d rather be a living coward than a Dead Hero. “

I remember laughing and rarely had I ever heard anything that completely changed my behavior as much as this…

Well done, Robert!

There was meaning in her silence.

A force in that smile.

I was at the launch of damaged past.

And she heaped me on that pile.

There’s a time for cool reflection.

Contemplation to be clear.

And there’s a time for quick escape.

And acknowledgment of fear.

I left her in the meadows.

I was shaking at the shore.

The tears are from the laughter.

And her silence has a roar.

I’m cranky in the morning.

The cat is under my feet.

Looking for something anything.

A furry meet and greet.

I’m cranky before coffee.

And sometimes at mid-day.

Then all the bad vibes vanish.

Like you and the cat, they go away.

It is cold. The earth is frozen. Just hours from February frost.

January has come and left, and we don’t know the cost.

There is going to be big reckoning. Of this, you can be sure.

Someone somewhere is keeping tally. Mathematics payback pure.