It's Not An Adventure...

... until something goes wrong.

Life has a way of shaking me up when I get too comfortable.

I'm eventually grateful for this.  I need to remember that.

I like to believe that FATE's fucking with me...just a little bit... I can't complain... to make me smarter, stronger, and more compassionate.

I like to believe I'm supposed to stay on my toes and NOT commit to anything FLEETING in hopes that some day some destiny will come clear and I'll get to shout a 21st century GRINGO's equivalent to:

"HOKAHEY! TODAY IS A GOOD DAY TO DIE!"

That's a Crazy Horse quote.  Here's a picture of Sitting Bull.

Look into those eyes...

Total certainty.  Total commitment.  And perhaps not in spite of but certainly in the face of UTTER hopelessness.

Shot and left for dead and came across frozen in the fucking prairie hopelessness...

... so yeah, I'll never have reason to throw myself a pity party.

One who knows me best accuses me of burning through dreams, friends, and lovers.

She's right.

Now I'm freshly reminded how it feels.

All that doubt.  All that pain.  Dreams shattered.  Love lost. 

Shitty... but by no means insurmountable... just another day at the office.

Momentarily, I appreciate the sentiments of barstool philosophers...

"You're 28?!
FUCK EM' ALL!
Settle down at 40.
Don't make the mistake I did."

As they're saying these things, I can't help but lighten up and laugh.

I don't feel 28.  I feel 18 going on 80.

Humor is dangerously disarming.  Every joke carries a lesson.

And I've laughed at just about everything.

So I'm up at 3 am searching bloodshot eyes on a sunscorched face.

Looking for myself.

Better late than never.