Sitting here, what a weird feeling. Useless; there's nothing to do. While they sit at his bedside in the hospital, waiting. Keeping vigil.  And I know what that's like, I mean, I've had that experience but I don't remember how it felt really. There was a sort of numbness or shock. Like you function by instinct more than by will. You sit there and you don't know what to hope for. What a thing not to have: hope. 

Because you can't just hope he won't die. If he pulls out of this, he's still a very sick guy who's going to die of his diseases, sooner rather than later, anyway. So if you hope he doesn't die now and you get your wish, he just has to go through all this again. And so do you.

And you don't know about time, either; how long a body will keep living. If the wait's a few hours or a few days. Sometimes you eat; sometimes you sleep. You go to the bathroom, but it's all automatic. And in a way you want it to be over, but in another way you don't. This is the last time you'll be in his presence, after all. The last time the world contains both you and him.

It seems like it'd be intolerable but you get through it because there's nothing else to do. If I were there right now, I'd give them hugs. Maybe hold Jimmy's hand for a minute, whisper in his ear. I feel in a way like I should be there, and yet not. My presence wouldn't change things, other than making the room more crowded.

Besides, death is a pretty personal thing. Who says Jimmy'd want me at his.

I'm gonna miss that guy. Not that I knew him well; he was just sort of a given around here. A person whose face was always a pleasure to see.

So I can pray that he's comfortable, that he's not in pain; that if he's conscious he's at peace; that he has a sense of where he's going and he knows it's not a bad thing. That God's there easing his journey and welcoming him, however that works...whatever form the transition takes. And I can pray for everyone else. She's going to need strength. Surely she knows she can turn to me; she must know that. However it goes, I'll be doing a lot of supporting in the near future, I think.

... I don't think people's health should give out at age 63 or whatever. I wish diabetes were easier for people to manage; I wish everyone with diabetes took it more seriously. 

<rant>

I hate what he's doing to her I hate it I hate it. She deserves a real father, one who's not a narcissistic, egotistical self-centered toad.
I'm supposed to forgive. I'm supposed to be charitable. 



...

I can't.

NOT WHEN YOU FUCK WITH MY KID!

</rant>

I hate them I hate them I hate them. Why is it that they always seem to walk away from the scene of the accident, leaving innocent people maimed or dead? I HATE THEM!

.

So of course I'm too young to retire (right?)

Imagine ... just imagine.

It's a new year! Time for fresh starts, etc. Um ... okay. Today started with the gas getting shut off at Spring Street. Not the best sort of fresh start to have. To that I say FUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKK.

Thank you, family, for being mine.

I guess you never really get to know, unless they leave a note or something. I hardly knew him so I wouldn't be privy to that sort of information. It's just hard to imagine things getting so bad that a gun looks like a solution. He had a mom, and a brother, and a young daughter...why weren't they enough to keep him from wanting to die? I've been really, REALLY depressed, distraught, overwhelmed--I've wanted to die. But never to the point of taking action.

It makes me sad. There was a life full of unknown potential. There was a son. There was a daddy. A brother. A friend, a nephew, a cousin, a grandson. Now there's a body in a morgue.

And only memories, regrets and grief.







I...really...bleed for his mom.

Procastinatorialest.

... procrastinativest? Well anyway. Nothing changes. I still get by the way I get by. Procrastinatively. Halloween party: moderately successful, or moderately failful, depending on whether the cup is half-full or half-empty.

Notes to self: 

a) invite more people next time
b) start it later

Oh and also? Lose some fucking weight. God, me in the pictures. 25 lb less, please!!! How can this be me? I'm supposed to be little. What happened to little? Why do I have a sedentary lifestyle now...?

So if I weren't doing this, I'd be ...

Yeah. Really. All kinds of things i SHOULD be doing; not much i want to be doing.

The essence of procrastination.