Photographs and Memories…

I don’t know what possessed me to, but I flipped through some old photo albums tonight.
It gave me some insight into why I hold everyone at arms length.
Page after page of people who are no longer in my life.
One photo album was pretty much pictures of me and dead people. Fuck.

At the back of one of them was my dad’s birth certificate. Were he still alive, he would be be turning 70 next year.
This for some reason felt like someone took hold of my heart and squeezed it like sponge.

I feel so robbed. He was robbed.
He was 53 when he died. 50 fucking 3.
Seven years older than I am right now.
That’s Bullshit and beyond unfair.

That is the day I feel I was cast adrift.
I had just turned 30.
I feel like every year I just drift farther and farther away from my life
and eventually there will be no chance for rescue.

anyway… I had a good cry, and felt better. It had been building up for a while now, and I was like a dam ready to burst. Better home alone, than in the office this week, ya know?

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