my careless contagion

January 28, 2018, I started this blog. I was alone and the divorce was nearly final (February 8). With no one to talk to about what I was feeling, I wrote here, originally transcribing from a notebook. What began as a form of therapy evolved into a journey of faith. What started in a very bad place ended in a much better place, though I am still alone. This blog garnered 34,000 hits over six years, which is a big surprise. (Also surprised attempts to create a new blog failed, but the love letters written to a certain woman were likely the reason anyone read here anyway.) Thank you to everyone who read here at some point. I prayed you got something out of it. Learned a lot about myself and am a lot humbler at its closing than at its beginning. Honesty, facing problems, and working toward solutions paid off, but it was God who did a work.  I cut my teeth on gospel songs. Win Worley's song sermons were my favorite and listened to them on cassette over and over. Such joy in that man...

Now for some real music! Haha, okay, what is a guy who grew up on hardcore posting a euro-dance hit from the 90s? Because it's awesome!  (The kids say it slaps.) I would flip back and forth on the radio between alternative and dance in the 90s. A lot of kids were into one or the other, but I craved all of it. I love music, and this song is still a favorite. It may not be the best Real McCoy had to offer, but we all heard this back in the day and danced a little in our econobox cars on our way to the future. And here we are in the future. Some of us still remember what life was like back then. Are we where we thought we'd be all these years later?  Honestly, I didn't think I'd make it this far. Thought I would be dead. No joke. Having the opinion of a foreshortened future is a symptom of PTSD gained from childhood trauma/abuse, which I endured. Common with everyone who endured longterm trauma. So, I can't complain. Pay stubs and bandaids. Paying bills and doing dishe...

Ah, Depeche Mode. I used to listen to this band a lot when traveling. The sound was conducive to flying over pavement of various vibrations through the shifting American landscapes, one moment surrounded by concrete and skyscrapers and the next cornfields and pastures. I could chose several songs by this band, but this one saw a resurgence in popularity because it was featured on HBO's The Last of Us, which I tried to watch but realized it was yet another soap opera masquerading as an adventure in zombie land. The action got less and less and the talking got to be too much and after the gay episode, I had enough and quit watching. It seems all entertainment is a vehicle for agenda now. Needless to say, The Last of Us let me down.  And that's what the song is about. People letting us down. Or not letting us down. Whichever your perspective. I recently tried to get in touch with the parents of one of my best friends growing up. We had been talking through Facebook, but my Faceboo...

Eight years ago I embarked on a new adventure. It was time to move. I was living in Ohio but learned my ex was pregnant (April 1, actually) while we were visiting my parents in Florida. I wanted to be the best dad I could be. For some reason, God took this heart desire and led me out of Ohio, leaving sinful practices behind.  One of those sins was alcoholism. It was in April eight years ago I quit drinking. I memorialize this fact every year because it was a miracle. Everything God does for us is a miracle, but this was quite a big one. I was mired in self-defeat and suicidal thoughts. I was literally trying to kill myself with drink, though I didn't even understand the reasons why. When I stopped drinking, it opened the door to further obedience, which opened more doors and brought about more miracles. In the years that followed, I became free in many more ways.  It shows you God takes what little we do, what little we give Him, and multiplies it. Give Him a little obedience ...

Twenty-two notebooks. These are they. Twenty-two notebooks of my writings going back to 1995 or 1996 (I started writing on yellow legal paper) up until 2017 or 2018. Why am I bringing this up? I'm glad you asked, faithful reader. Because those notebooks I just threw out. Herein is another prayer, full of hope and expectancy.  I asked God about what might be tying me to sad emotions, unhappiness, etc. Whatever was stealing my joy, I wanted to get rid of. If you leaf through those notebooks, you'll see why I got rid of them. It was full of trauma, pain, and endless emoting over past hurt. I was attempting to grapple with the sad state of my life, my childhood, etc. There is even a note in there about how my brother grabbed my hand so hard it bled. This was after I left home, mind you. I don't need those things anymore. Is this symbolic? Perhaps. And it might mean something more to throw them out. If there is anything connected with those notebooks that is pulling me in a sad ...

Okay, maybe "obsessed" is a strong word. But here are some things I'm really into. Or moderately into. Or things I like. Or just things I'm okay with. Haha. Here is some stuff I have in my life. Or things I want in my life. Things I don't have enough of. Here is some stuff. Whatever.  Surely I've mentioned some of these before. And I apologize for taking a break from posting for a while, as I moved and am trying to settle in (and neither of those are easy tasks), was also without internet for a week and a half, and then the data on my phone ran out. This is probably a dumb and/or redundant post, but I felt the need to write something different. Because there is a risk of sounding OCD, I should state I'm not actually an obsessive personality. I am an ordinary man. I'm methodical, meticulous, and detail-oriented. I admit that. I keep track of things. I'm responsible and organized. Obsessed is the wrong word, but I'll use it anyway. Here are some ...

It’s August The sun shines brightly The wind blows soft and warm And reeks of summer’s fecundity What I know and what I knew Are strangers in the night I’m enraptured by make believe And outraged by reality Such is summer Some say August Is summer’s last gasp I say it feels like nothing I’m supposed to have thoughts Ideas and feelings But they left me Long before August I was supposed to be something Destined to be someone But all I wanted was love I would have run To the edge of the world for it It was never there No matter the season Now it’s late Far too late She’s gone and I am too As the song says Some things you can never get back Like the happiness in her voice Before whatever happened happened Long before August Long before now Writers write because They want to capture something Or someone Something they’re missing Or never even had But they want it back all the same I write because it is August All this time I felt I lost her But the truth is sadder She lost me Long before Au...

She went away, like a storm, or like a toy boat caught in the current of a stream. That's what I tell myself now. How or why doesn't matter anymore, only that she went away, and forever. She's gone. Irretrievable. Found her way to some distant sea. I don't know. All I know is she's gone, and I am still here. I wished and hoped she'd come back, but she never did. How did she move on? And so quickly? How did she run so fast so far so silently? Did I drive her away? Did I say something, do something, be something? I don't know. All I know is she left. Or was drawn away. All my attempts to draw her closer resounded pitifully and hollowly, like I was speaking to an empty forest or myself or a dark sky.  I hear her voice in the rain sometimes, in the pitter-patter of raindrops on the roof. It's like she's still there, or just visiting, but I know it's only my imagination. I tell myself she's just checking in to see if I'm okay, and then I smile...