There are so many things out of my control.

In fact, there is little I’m in control of.

However when I’m full of anxiety and there’s something important on the line like the safety of my girl… This is when I rediscover faith and continue my search for peace of mind.

I can’t hear my mother’s voice anymore. It’s been this way for a while I guess… I just read a line that made me think this.

It’s the voice I held onto the most after her silence. I hear it now in my daughter. Me melting in her tones.

Even when I’ve had enough in any given moment, I don’t really want her silence.

The sun is up and I am nervous.

I am trying to protect you my dear.

However a judge will decide.

This will hopefully soon be over.

We need a break.

Good lawyers are expensive however in time I have learned that great lawyers are priceless because some people don’t play fair and sometimes when you are say trying to protect the most precious and vulnerable in our society it requires great legal help.

I have found in life that you generally get what you pay for and I am currently in the grin and bare it mode however even in this theme there’s a strange calm in knowing that the Adults have entered the room and they know what they are doing and yes they will be paid!

I have found my judgment or assessments in a stressful environment can not just be flawed but completely 180 ° opposite of what I was thinking.

The walls go up, fears take over and my reptilian fight or flight reaction takes rule and the fight is on… even when someone is there to help.

I know I am not alone in this. This is the norm. This is what it means to be human.

This is more about acknowledgement than an apology. I learn from my humanity experience or at least I try. This is what makes the shame of being wrong tolerable.

Strong and Independent! Successful and unencumbered by the trappings from life that burden the rest of us…

Shine on you crazy DIAMOND 💎 Don’t let that door hit you on the arse on the way out! It’s a brand new day.

God speed and good luck.

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.

The talk has faded into the ether of the past… like farts in the wind.

The memories of your touch has dwindled into the vastness of an ‘I can’t remember’ void and has been replaced with an empty tear cried by none.

You might recall I tried to show you through demonstration, but your eyes glassed over like you wanted to be somewhere else.

Congratulations! My involvement in your life has come to a close.

Nothing left now except lawyers and money to decide whom spends the most time with our child… I’m hoping on me for everyone’s sake.

Me, because I love being a parent and her, because with me I know she’ll be safe and acknowledged; and you so you can travel the world and tell everyone you meet what a great artist and talent you are, especially now that you’ve been unbridled from the inconveniences and burdens of being an adult.

Dennis Mantin

At a Queens Park gathering of the world’s stupidest people, the mother of my friends daughter stood out to such a degree that his 8 year old said.

“Dad I was so embarrassed… stranger’s; women were coming up to me and asking me if I was alright.”

“They were calling her a witch and she was screaming back at them… ‘The witch has warned you. Heed the witch!”

A mentally ill woman grasping to the last vestiges of sanity is being called a witch in front of her 8 year old girl by adults at a rally promoting HUGS over masks?

I do believe this is not a great look for the left socialists, albeit it is an honest portrayal of what is at the heart of whatever they are promoting.