He penikala melemele

You know, when I’m holding a pencil and my hand hurts and I don’t have a computer to type in because last Thursday I got drunk and walked away from my laptop in the park? Run-on sentence. You probably don’t know. I’ll tell you what happens, and you act incredulous. Iʻll try not to say the things alcohol would say. But you can’t tell the truth and tell people what they want to hear. Am I happy? Fuck no. Are you happy? I don’t know anyone who is happy for the next five minutes after they smile. It’s an inconvenient truth how much it hurts to open your eyes in the morning. I look at my son. I look at my daughter. And there is a true respite, however brief. Then my son cries because something hurt him. What is the correct response? Kill what did it? Here’s the truth about life. It’s mostly really boring. Some good shit happens that you planned for, some happens just because. And some shitty things happen. It can’t be avoided. People lie. People die. Nihilism is an easy choice. It’s very easy to wander, and the conclusion that nothing matters is within arm’s reach. You know, I look into my girlfriend’s eyes, even after a fight, even after she just said, “I’m not your girlfriend.” In her weird European accent. And it makes me smile. Those eyes are so beautiful even when they’re crossed. You know what? No matter how much I hope for the contrary? I will die. Everyone I love will die. And if I’m alive when it happens, I won’t like it. What are you going to do?