I hope you'll forgive me but I'm going to hold off on telling you about Anus. Some of the things he did quite literally broke my Dad's heart, and insofar as today (Saturday) marks the fourth anniversary of his passing, I just don't have it in me to rip a family member. He hurt as much as I did, still does, and I just can't do it today.
It's tough to explain, but days like this, I just feel the weight of the world really acutely. I feel that everyone who is still in my life is abandoning me, that everything of value in my life has evanesced into nothingness, because I've pushed it all away from me. The people closest to me - those who love me, or loved me, the most, have all pulled away because they just can't take it any more, and you know what? I can't blame them. I know I wouldn't want any part of me in this state.
I'll be fine in a day or two. You'll have to forgive these little descents into the abyss. I'm always a little ambivalent as to whether or not I should write about them: on one hand it's whiny and self-serving, but on the other hand to ignore it, to not even acknowledge it and pretend that I'm just hunky-dory, is disingenuous.
The Crafty Southpaw is acerbic and funny and artful, sure: but some days I'm just Gary. And some days it's not a lot of fun being Gary.
Thanks for listening.