Better Ideas

I realised, once again, that it has been some time since I posted on my blog.

I blame work.

So, yesterday, I thought I’d fix the glitch.

About three hours into spilling the contents of my brain, I paused to look at what I had written, and thought: There is absolutely no way on this Earth that I am going to publish this post.

It doesn’t happen often. But it does happen.


The entire theme was about depression.

About growing up in an anti-girl household and all the implications that had. About feeling voiceless. About feeling like an overstayed distanct cousin in the lives of my best friends.

And it droned on and one like that … for eight more sections.



I’m okay with exploring unpleasant truths about my life.

However, I’m big on reconciling the past and moving forward with better ideas and outlooks. I like liking today and I’m game about tomorrow.

Also, I thrive on being content. I’m happy to just be calm and considerate and finding the funny in me.

What I wrote yesterday was not anywhere in the vicinty of being calm, considerate or remotely funny.


I tried to salvage that post of couple of times before clicking DELETE.

Then I took myself and my jeep Miles down to the river road, where we splashed in the puddles pooling around from the day’s worth of rain.

Walking in or driving through puddles never disappoints.

Yeah, that was for sure a better idea.


I get why I wrote what I did.

There are things going on.

Mainly War. Another bloody war.


So much voilence in the name of righteous indignation.

And so much seen in real time.

I didn’t mean to, but the New York Times auto played and I watched an entire downtown apartment crumble in on itself after coming under fire.

People were in there, I whispered aloud to an empty room.

And I remembered watching something similar …


And who to believe?

Where is the manipulation?

Where is the un-edited truth?


I have this to say on this subject, and this goes for all “sides” …

If you must, then go eye to eye with trained soldiers. There at least they know about you, and there at least they know about the weapon you have and the weapon they hold.

But, man, go after kids and babies and unprotected people? Yeah, then your cause is for sh*t and f*ck your on-camera justificiations whilst dressed in military-issued camos or bespoke suits.


Then there’s my own selfish issue. Beginning Friday evening, I have been dealing with a rather painful toothache.

My teeth are my least favourite thing. Big ugly choppers, front and center, barely contained.

Anway, this unanticpated focus has me distracted, and feeling sorry for myself about myself.


Okay, I feel like I’m this close to re-hashing yesterday’s deleted draft. So I shall stop here.

And leave on this note:

  • This week I will book a dentist and accept whatever the outcome. C’est la vie.
  • As for my feeling unwelcomed with my friends? Well, one of my oldest friends, Han, rang last night to see that I will be coming to his place in Hawaii next May. That he has the best sushi places picked out, and he and Tina bought and Jeep to go offroading.

Silly Finnegan. An invitaion to stay a month with friends in Hawaii is beyond gracious and warm.

  • And, for the other, I will continue to do as I have being doing: Which is to think about and pray for the exposed people trapped in their own neighbourhoods between warring military mights.


Until next time.

This is Sunday.

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