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Da ich heute frei hatte, habe ich einem Arbeitskollegen seine Tasche zum Bahnhof gebracht, da er heute auf ein Seminar von der Firma aus gefahren und ne Stunde vorher am Flughafen von nem Trainigscamp aus Spanien gekommen ist.

Ja,.. vor etwaeinem Jahr stand ich auch an dem Bahnhof und bin genau auf zum selben Seminar gefahren,…

Old, good, bad,… Many memorys… Don’t know what to feel

Es geht darum, das Gift und den Doch wegzulegen, und das eigene Schicksal zu schreiben…

We’re adults. When did that happen? And how do we make it stop?

You know how when you were a little kid and you believed in fairy tales, that fantasy of what your life would be, white dress, prince charming who would carry you away to a castle on a hill. You would lie in bed at night and close your eyes and you had complete and utter faith. Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, Prince Charming, they were so close you could taste them, but eventually you grow up, one day you open your eyes and the fairy tale disappears. Most people turn to the things and people they can trust. But the thing is its hard to let go of that fairy tale entirely cause almost everyone has that smallest bit of hope, of faith, that one day they will open their eyes and it will come true.

At the end of the day faith is a funny thing. It turns up when you don’t really expect it. It’s like one day you realize that the fairy tale may be slightly different than you dreamed. The castle, well, it may not be a castle. And it’s not so important happy ever after, just that its happy right now. See once in a while, once in a blue moon, people will surprise you , and once in a while people may even take your breath away.

Maybe we like the pain. Maybe we’re wired that way. Because without it, I don’t know; maybe we just wouldn’t feel real. What’s that saying? Why do I keep hitting myself with a hammer? Because it feels so good when I stop.

Intimacy is a four syllable word for, “Here’s my heart and soul, please grind them into hamburger, and enjoy.” It’s both desired, and feared. Difficult to live with, and impossible to live without. Intimacy also comes attached to the three R’s… relatives, romance, and roommates. There are some things you can’t escape. And other things you just don’t want to know.

I wish there were a rulebook for intimacy. Some kind of guide to tell you when you’ve crossed the line. It would be nice if you could see it coming, and I don’t know how you fit it on a map. You take it where you can get it, and keep it as long as you can. And as for rules, maybe there are none. Maybe the rules of intimacy are something you have to define for yourself.

If you knew this was your last day on Earth, how would you wanna spend it?

Pain, you just have to ride it out, hope it goes away on its own, hope the wound that caused it heals. There are no solutions, no easy answers, you just breath deep and wait for it to subside. Most of the time pain can be managed but sometimes the pain gets you where you least expect it. Hits way below the belt and doesn’t let up. Pain, you just have to fight through, because the truth is you can’t outrun it and life always makes more.

Sometimes reality has a way of sneaking up and biting us in the ass. And when the dam bursts, all you can do is swim. The world of pretend is a cage, not a cocoon. We can only lie to ourselves for so long. We are tired, we are scared, denying it doesn’t change the truth. Sooner or later we have to put aside our denial and face the world. Head on, guns blazing. De Nile. It’s not just a river in Egypt, it’s a freakin’ ocean. So how do you keep from drowning in it?

There’s something to be said about a glass half full. About knowing when to say when. I think it’s a floating line. A barometer of need and desire. It’s entirely up to the individual. And depends on what’s being poured. Sometimes all we want is a taste. Other times there’s no such thing as enough, the glass is bottomless. And all we want, is more.

Maybe we’re not supposed to be happy. Maybe gratitude has nothing to do with joy. Maybe being grateful means recognizing what you have for what it is. Appreciating small victories. Admiring the struggle it takes simply to be human. Maybe we’re thankful for the familiar things we know. And maybe we’re thankful for the things we’ll never know. At the end of the day, the fact that we have the courage to still be standing is reason enough to celebrate.

At the end of the day, there are some things you just can’t help but talk about. Some things we just don’t want to hear, and some things we say because we can’t be silent any longer. Some things are more than what you say, they’re what you do. Some things you say cause there’s no other choice. Some things you keep to yourself. And not too often, but every now and then, some things simply speak for themselves.

Four hundred years ago, another well-known English guy had an opinion about being alone. John Donne. He thought we were never alone. Of course, it was fancier when he said it. “No man is an island entire unto himself.” Boil down that island talk, and he just meant that all anyone needs is someone to step in and let us know we’re not alone. And who’s to say that someone can’t have four legs. Someone to play with or run around with, or just hang out.

When you were a kid, it was Halloween candy. You hid it from your parents and you ate it until you got sick. In college, it was the heavy combo of youth, tequila and well, you know. As a surgeon, you take as much of the good as you can get because it doesn’t come around nearly as often as it should. ‘Cause good things aren’t always what they seem. Too much of anything, even love, is not always a good thing.

How do you know when how much is too much? Too much too soon. Too much information. Too much fun. Too much love. Too much to ask… And when is it all just too much to bear?

Communication. It’s the first thing we really learn in life. Funny thing is, once we grow up, learn our words and really start talking the harder it becomes to know what to say. Or how to ask for what we really need.