The Dishonest Honesty Of Life

Three songs play in rapid succession and I stop to consider how far I am willing to go knowing I already know the answers.

A series of events got personal in a way that made me want to pick up the phone and share in a way that hasn’t been done in a long time but I didn’t.

In part because I didn’t want to be Charlie Brown getting fooled by Lucy and because I just didn’t.

So here I sit trying to reconcile the image in my head and gut while wondering how many people get to this point in life and fail to reach for that brass ring.

I feel like Bruce might understand maybe even answer the question but he hasn’t shared his cell with me so all I have is a song.

The Dishonest Honesty Of Life

My distaste and dislike for somethings and some people has reached a visceral state which I suppose is why some suggest I ought to think long and hard about it.

I tell them long and hard is exactly what I am thinking of but not in the context they think I should hold it.

The conversation ends there and I think about the dishonest honesty of life and how often we don’t say what we think or do as we wish for all sorts of reasons.

And then I think it wouldn’t be shocking to hear Moneypenny share her line.

You know my name and it is not James Bond nor am I trying to be him. I am a man doing the best he can to live his life.

A man who was told no more times than he cares to remember not for reasons that made sense but simply because of inertia.

I turned no into yes three different times this week–all in professional settings and was told how relentless I am.

Sometimes that pleases me but this time it irked me because the amount of work that was required to take care of some simple matters was ridiculous.

It was a tremendous waste of time and energy. Twenty years ago I would have enjoyed the back and forth and the search for a way to turn carbon into diamonds, but not today.

Today exhausted me…mostly because of the tremendous disappointment in certain people. I’d suggest a giant enema followed by heavy doses of Thorazine but I am not sure that would help them.

That is why it is so…sad.

Beauty All Around Us

Every time I read Brother Pablo’s words I am impressed by how much he could say not just in one language, but two.

I shared the quote above with a guy who told me how stupid it was and I sh0ok my head.

“Why are you shaking your head?”

“Because you don’t understand. If you knew what it was like to burn and ache for the love you have or had for another you would look at this differently.”

“Are you trying to say I don’t know what it is like to love?”

“Not trying, I am saying.”

“Dude, you don’t know that about me.”

“Nah, I know.”

“What makes you think you know anything about this? Do you have references?”

“Yes I do.”

“I’d like to check your references.”

“Get used to disappointment.”

“Why won’t you share them?”

“Because she won’t talk to you.”

“Will she talk to you? Does she still talk to you?”


“Can you tell me about her?”


Silence follows.

“J, are you going to say anything about her?”


“You just told me you could tell you about her.”

“I did. I can tell you quite a bit and it would make her blush.”

“I don’t want to know that stuff.”

“I am not talking about that stuff.”

“So what are you talking about?”

“Nothing. That is for me and maybe her should it come up.”

“What do you mean should it come up?”

“Sorry, I am not talking about what might or might not pop up.”

“You’re infuriating.”

“She thinks that too..sometimes. If she were around I think I would talk about the beauty around us, but we’ll put a pin in that one for now.”

Why Write It Down

I was going to share another Johnny and June tidbit but I’ll save that for other days or places. I am lost in other thoughts.

Got a different song reminding me about being awake and thinking about what I want to do about the car.

Laughing because if I had another six months chances are I would make different choices but timing doesn’t reflect our personal choices and desires.

Circumstances arise and in spite of our best efforts to mold them we sometimes get to deal with what we have and nothing more.

So I stand in the gym, surprise myself by seeing I almost back to being able to curl 100 pounds and stare in the mirror.

The reflection isn’t pleasing but not as offensive as it once was.

I stare at the guy and see possibility, opportunity and change.

Sometimes I think it doesn’t matter at all and sometimes it is the only thing.

Am I holding onto the image of the 25 year-old because I need to bring that look back or do I just want it.

More importantly, can I accept that unless there is some kind of magic pill there is no bringing him back.

Probably can and not just because circumstances force me to be practical.

Sometimes you just have to smile, shrug your shoulders and say hey.



Today was surreal, a mix of really hard and some really good too. The kind of good you get when you see the outlines of something you worked really hard on begin to come together.

There is satisfaction in building you can’t get any other way.

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