Confidence…

Life is weird. Sometimes I feel like I’m in SUPREME shape, I’ve reached the apex of “the run”.. I’m goin’ downhill now baby, notta damn thing that can stop me!

And… then other times, I have an extremely difficult time concentrating, focusing on the good in me/my world.. and I’m brought to deafening silence (close ur ears, mebbe depressed/depression.) Silence everywhere, but to my brain.

Smiles pump me up, prop me up, and even sometimes, invoke tears. I hate when old folks dote on their grandkids (not really) but doting on my “a bit over 4 month old g-baby”, when she invokes smile – there's notta damn soul on the planet that can budge me from ‘heaven’… I’m truly a sappy person around her. She can do no wrong. She can’t ‘say’ anything, but whenever she finally starts doing so, she will say no wrong.

I am confident in the work I do. I smoke too many damn cigs (they’ve told me that) but whilst so, I fret, turn upside-downside, thinka this carrier, that carrier, all the time constraints involved – and ultimately, I perform – and when I do, it’s with the best interests of the company that feeds me in mind.

When I thinka ‘boy-girl’, me-she, holy crap. I slip into the mole hole. I’ve married, what I believe to have been, two very good persons. (Don’t live in Utah, nope, not at same time.. one 7 yrs.. d’udder a bit over 20 yrs)…

Both ended. Sure, I’ll share some blame. Comprende. But, wanted neither to end. (Both did, and I welled up the 2nd time I’d said “till death do us part” cause I’d already said it).. So…. Tepid.. as I go forward. “Why even do/attempt this again, it will just cause more wrinkles… and Victor, have you seen a mirror lately?”. I know I know.

Then I remember the good times.. The loving times.. The “what it’s like for two peeps to share their day/night/morn/their everything.”
So, I reach hand out. And occasionally, a gal with very poor vision will respond in like. And then I clam up.

I honestly am torn between “I am not so sure I wanna do this shit again, for however many years, and then have it all yanked away – to where I run to Miller Lite, the computer, my buds, anywhere “but there”…

(Continuing on the torn between).. Do you REALLY think it’s possible? Could good be good infinitum? I’ve ‘butchered’ my first two “draft choices” – whythehell would you believe #3 would be any better? Just the statement “#3” carries a stigma. As in ‘eww’.

Then, I see pics of gals, and gals in the flesh and blood – and they exhibit that wonderful, adoring, (“I love life, I’m a very good person, I would NEVER diss you”) smile.. and I melt. We wing wonderfully expectant emails back and forth…

And then I sit back. Yes, no. No, yes. Give it a try. But, whythehellshouldI, u know what will happen. Nostradamus, whyinthehell did u have to die in 1566?

All that said: Victor, you are difficult to live with occasionally, just ask Victor… Why even try again?

Baseball Ray... three strikes and you’re out. Hell, you ain’t so far from Shady Acres, what possible kinda fun could you have tween now and then?

Could you stand one more “seeya later”?
Like sands thru the hourglass, so go the Days of our Lives.. Victor, might I ask.. have you had a beer tonight?

My secret. Happy day, love Victurd, hiccup.