So I’m out strolling around the neighborhood, cigar in hand, still trying to burn off some nervous energy from my holiday adventures, when I happen across a neighbor packing his car for a little trip. We chat for a brief moment, and it leads to this short exchange…\n<\/p>\n
\nMe<\/strong>: Yeah…I’m still trying to de-stress from my holiday trip. My path took me past two of the great loves of my life…<\/p>\n
He<\/strong>: I can see where that would lead to stressful times…<\/p>\n
Me<\/strong>: Yeah. My Ex down in Hilton Head just Had to show me the house he’s living in now…with the guy he dumped me for. I tried to explain…but he insisted and I just can’t say no to him… (shakes head) He just had to show me. Arrgh…<\/p>\n
He<\/strong>: (Grins) <\/p>\n
Me<\/strong>: And then I drove through Florida, where my first love lives now… So basically about half my vacation amounted to taking a tour past the lives they’ve both made for themselves… (shrug…puff…)<\/p>\n
He<\/strong>: Yes. But you survived.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n
Actually…that’s still an open question.<\/p>\n
One of my D.C. friends asked me why I fucking did that to myself. I told him I didn’t know. And, really, I don’t. Except it’s just the way I am. I had to know. It’s why I was never able to just sit in my church pews and passively accept what I was being told about life, morality, evolution, creation, and my relationship to my creator. Ever since I was old enough to lay on my back at night and look up at the stars and wonder what they were, I’ve always had to know what is. <\/p>\n
For in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.<\/font><\/em>
\n-Ecclesiastes (ch. I, v. 18)<\/p>\nThat’s not really true. Knowledge is broadening. Both the joys and the sorrows increase. But there’s a point you reach where you find you can’t cope anymore. Understanding nature as it really is, has provided me with very great joy. But there’s only one joy that can ease the sorrow I’ve lived with most of my life, and I don’t see it coming. And that one great sorrow just really drags me down lately. I don’t think anyone who knows me really sees how bad it is.<\/p>\n
I wish I could draw. If I could just draw it might help a little. <\/p>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
So I’m out strolling around the neighborhood, cigar in hand, still trying to burn off some nervous energy from my holiday adventures, when I happen across a neighbor packing his car for a little trip. We chat for a brief moment, and it leads to this short exchange… Me: Yeah…I’m still trying to de-stress from […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[77],"class_list":["post-1143","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-the-dumpsville-chronicles"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/brucegarrett.com\/brucelog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1143","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/brucegarrett.com\/brucelog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/brucegarrett.com\/brucelog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/brucegarrett.com\/brucelog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/brucegarrett.com\/brucelog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1143"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/brucegarrett.com\/brucelog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1143\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/brucegarrett.com\/brucelog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1143"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/brucegarrett.com\/brucelog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1143"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/brucegarrett.com\/brucelog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1143"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}