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One life comes into this world, while another is on its way out.  I suppose somewhere, lightning crashes.  That's what life is, isn't it?  A serendipitous mixture of hellos and goodbyes.  Some much harder than others.  One day you're alive and well, and the next day you've got a few weeks or months to live.  I guess we should make an effort to really live in the precious time between.  Most of us are guilty of planning for the future and forgetting the present.  We are guilty of letting ourselves be consumed by what is to come rather than what is here now.  Myself, I often live in the future.  Living in the present can be scary, and it can be so sad.  I think the present has for so many years been a difficult place, that I protected myself by transcending its grasp.  Better get used to it now, because later it will just become more difficult.  When it rains it tends to pour.  These last eight months have been one hell of a storm.  I suppose it would be possible to come out clean, unscathed.  I suppose I could walk out of this crisp and neat, head to toe.  I think I'd rather come out drenched, gasping for breath, carrying all the hurt of the world.  I think I'd rather come out alive than dead.  Don't run from pain, let it run its course, and look it straight in the eyes while it does.  As always, all my love to die, and live long.

Spatter