IWill tell you about a little boy named Gregory.

He was just a kid. A good kid.

He seemed to undergo some serious #developmental trauma when his brother left home at 12. Instead of continuing a life of arts and “ying” he choose to follow his fathers footsteps lest he be cast from the house himself.

Fast forward.

He sure loved the blonds. He sure was a sucker for the blonds.

He sure loved youth group. He sure was a sucker for the feeling that #god actually loved me specifically.

Fast forward.

He’s sitting at a bar. Contemplating #suicide. But not. Because he already beat that “really hard psychological journey to go through”. To ultimately know… deep down. If you were completely alone… for the rest of your life… would you be happy.

Back up.

A lot of shit happened to this kid. Similar to others. Unique only to him. Part of the #intelligentdesign

Fast forward.

He just writes. That’s all that he trusts in now. That’s all that’s never abandoned him. #lookinthemirror

Back up.

He likes legos. He likes to build things.

He likes to make people smile.

He feels better when people around him are happy.

He is an #empath

He is an #energyvampire

He is a #narcissist

He is lonely.

He feels sad. Alone. No matter what he does. No matter what is placed before him.

It may not be alone in #time… it is easy to find a hot girl. Ask me how sometime. Man do I have some wild stories for you.

Maybe robin williams was mentally ill. Maybe Jesus was. Maybe we are all. A little different from each other. Each of us so beautifully crafted. So unique in the universe.

Who could ever assume to understand the sensory experience of another? Who could ever assume to know what another required?

Who could ever assume to understand the burden another carried. At the emotional level. At the sensory level. At the physical level. At the atomic level. At the quantum level.

Remove the plank he said.

I will never try to compare my experiences of holding my lifeless son in my arms and trying to blow some kind of ridiculous #iknowcprbutidontpleasegoddonttakemyson breathe into his airway that was already 97% scarred shut to anyone. Fuck them. Bless them. If you have any idea what I had experienced you would only express empathy. You would never say the words “a lot of people have it a lot worse”.

That’s mean. That’s “unkind”.

I’m a really bad dad apparently. My kids and step kids want nothing to do with me. Man. That was a hard lesson. It’s hard to look in the mirror and see nothing but garbage.

Back up.

This boy really likes blonds. Damn. Supergirl is the greatest movie ever created. Way better than wonder woman. There is something about that #goldenmantlepiece

Fast forward.

How many tears can I actually cry in public before they stop serving me?

Back up.

Man that was a good day of snowboarding.

Man that was a painful breakup.

Back up.

Have you ever seen the movie #tenet

Back up.

Who are you kid? Why does your story matter?

Fast forward.

No one. Said Odysseus to the monster. I am no one. Which is why you cannot see me.

Which is… btw… is the exact teaching and interpretation of the odyssey by Homer.

Art and life create art which sustain life.

Back up.

Isn’t this the story of a little boy?

Keep backing up.

What is the inner child? Really?

What do Freud and Carl Yung and #instagrammers with more than 1 follower actually have to say. And who cares? Who can see their own sickness?

I seem to have a sickness.

I don’t know if it’s the western medical definition of “post traumatic stress disorder” or the eastern diagnosis of “victim consciousness” nor do I really care. I’m bored.

Bored of #sadness

I would rather sit at the bar at #beavercreek by myself for the rest Of my life rather than to deny the truth of my own journey.

I would rather break up with the hottest girl… literally in the world #hotterthankate than to deny #truth of my life.

So fast forward. Or back up. Who gives a fuck.

I’ve been writing for awhile.

I’ve been recording my experiences.

For awhile now.

And the ones I can’t quite remember I try to fill in the blank.

I’m alone.

Im sad.

Im sad that I’m alone.

Im sad that when my daughter born at 533 grams and all the effort I’ve spent since that moment have manifest into basically a joke of a text message thread.

Sure. I will get a therapist. I’m sure that will repair the damage.

I’m sad that when my son… who I have staked %50 of my legacy on… who gets a concussion, whether fake or not… that I will have to feel more stress and pain other than the feeling that every parent wants and no one gets… (#hewillbefine)

I wanted that feeling. I wanted it ever since I woke up on the couch with Jill screaming at me.

I wanted to enjoy parenting.

I wanted to see life being created.

I wanted to observe.

My reality was a little different.

Fast forward.

The number of times I have considered reversing my vasectomy for #legacy or #acceptance is higher than I like to admit.

Weren’t we talking about a little kid?

This kid loved those #blonds. Damn.

Katie Bugbee broke my heart already. She liked the junior. Cyrus.

He was a loser.

In my “humble” opinion.

Which is another way for enlightened writers to express the #truth of their experience.

You.

Are.

Alone.

…

There is nothing else.

…

You are either a human who doesn’t acknowledge this or you are are a #lightworker #generator who does not yet understand this or you are #dao

…

It’s just too bad it took an addict to teach you that you were so out of alignment.

…

….

Silence.

Who cares.

What the fuck.

Go fuck yourself.

…

The #disregardedshamanpriestdrankalone

….

The silver surfer laughed.

…

This has been the best day ever.

…

Thats what an addict I am.

…

That’s what a spiritualist #iam

…

That’s what a broken hearted artist #iam

…

Because by the time your “romantic as hell” #playlist is done… what else is there?

…

I can’t wait to read this back.

…

I can’t believe that the straw that would break the camels back would be “I can’t believe you have to write everything down”.

Back up.

This kid really loves #blonds.

Back up.

Have you seen the fantastic four episode (she was definitely talking about fantastic four) where the invisible girl gets captured?

Well I was traumatized.

I was probably fine. I also had a boner the size of of small pencil.

…

Fast forward.

…

Have you ever tied to “please” #aphrodite the Greek goddess? It is not possible. She becomes Medusa in the end.

As all of them do.

…

I just wanted to snowboard… the little kid said.

…

i didn’t know I needed to be an #Olympian to be #accepted

…

So what is accepted.

I haven’t found it yet. I’ll let you know when I do.

Love you #jenn

Sorry for the pain you have experienced while you were my mirror.

…

I love you. Forever. And goodbye.