Batman going crazy, he’s been angered since his youth.

And Superboy came out as gay, saying goodbye old phone booth.

The Joker feels normal now, like Matthew Mathers spitting truth.

The Myth-Men seem so human.

Clarke Kent hides behind a curl.

The Aliens are all the rage.

Only Star-Lord gets the girl.

I could get no higher.

Then that summit that we climbed.

I swear there was a choir

Singing joys and words of kind.

There were trials, tribulations.

There was blue and fresh clean air.

Like some drug induced sensations.

No more need to stand and stare.

All over but the crying.

Now is the time to say so long.

I just got sick of trying.

It’s not the singer, it’s the song.

A holy place is never empty.

I have reached a point in life where I value my opinion above most others.

In any large decision I ask 3 people there opinion before I act.

If I am asking you for your opinion understand I respect you.

My friend David likens it to when the European Christians came to North America and tried to convince a native population that their Christian God would save the natives souls and everything that they previously believed was wrong and the Missionaries believed what they were saying and in this country Canada 🇨🇦, they removed these native children from their parents and put them in ‘Residential Schools’ with often disastrous results.

The article in the Economist stated that several independent reports came to the same conclusion that no benefits are evident from gender reassignment surgeries. However, apparently, there’s still raging debates on the issue.

I’ve heard it said that there are no more girls and no more boys. From children’s points of view, they are all just one.

I have trouble with the last one…

It occurs to me that certain individuals and powers that be have been successful in promoting the ideas that not having children is a great thing and that men are inherently evil. However, from this vantage point, it appears that these changes originate from different sources than the patriarchy.

I don’t know what it is, however… Whenever I read Bukowski… I want to write.

Maybe it’s one alcoholic speaking to another, I don’t know. A safe place for a sober, dare I say recovered alcoholic; hearing tales from a dead man?

No, it’s the courage that I lacked when I was down the rabbit hole that he possessed. To be so honest in and about his addictions, maybe that’s the identification that happens?

She asked, “Would the boy you were be proud of the man you’ve become? “

Not something I have ever thought of before however, I’m going with “YES.”

You think as a child your experience is singular and unique and later realize you’re just one of many sharing from the same unconcious pool.

I was and still am a spiritual being having a physical experience.

The gift of being a parent is that I know all the feelings and experiences she is having are part of me with the added bonus that I am there for her to help and hopefully guide. I am so grateful for this life and opportunity at life regardless of my judgment of good or bad. It wasn’t always this way, so yes.

It’s all over but the crying.

I’m crying tears of joy.

Laughed so hard I pissed my pants.

Which really can annoy.

It’s not that it’s so funny

It’s just I’m laughing at you.

It’s so damn off putting.

When the tears have dried we’re through.

She was lovely in that sunshine. Said she was searching for a song.

It wasn’t the words or melody or the need for right or wrong.

She was searching for some meaning or a feeling in her heart.

But that train had left the station and it was tearing her apart.

I told her it’s time to kneel, when all else fails pray.

She thanked me for mansplaining and I just said ok.

There once was a protester named Karen.

She’s protesting and hating and glarin.

She’s making things right.

Not her fault she’s white.

She’s just so damn smart and she’s sharin.

Dennis Mantin