When you were a kid were you ever a little asshole and when you would see the little worker ants coming in and out of their little ant hill. Diligently they lugged in little twigs, dry grass, and food remains back in to their little home. Then you thought to yourself for a second, its too perfect. And then you would kick their little ant hill and chaos would ensue. Suddenly the little ants day was no longer going as planned. Now they were scurrying around frantically wondering WTF just happened.
I got back into town a week ago. Finally I am able to sit down and write uninterrupted. Life has been rather surreal lately. My visit to Tucson went by like a fast blur. This time I made no plans with anyone. If plans happened they did if they didn't that was okay too. I guess my attitude lately is that you can only plan so much but at times it seems futile. I was a little fed up with making plans. Someone has kicked the shit out of my ant hill.
I saw my Dad.
Seeing my father takes me back to childhood. I melt. I die a little. I miss him so much it hurts and its a void in my heart that I numbed for so long that for a while there I really felt maybe I could really live my life with out being close to my father anymore. I was wrong. It was all a temporary facade.
Life isn't the same with out him as a constant in it.
We drove back from Tucson to Hayward last Saturday. It was a twelve hour drive but I clung onto every moment. The drive didn't feel long enough. I never wanted to reach our destination. I wished we were driving to New York and back.
Thats all I have to say for now.