We do all we can when we witness someone close to us who is winding down from this life. Very often, people get old and nobody pays attention. They may be thinking about the realities of life and how the day is coming for all of us. But when you see someone like your mother going through memory loss and dementia, the process of coming to the inevitable becomes more rigorous. I recall pulling into the grocery store one day. As I opened the door I noticed an elderly lady standing by a car looking as if she was trying to figure out where she was. By that time my mother had just began showing signs of dementia. I stopped in front of the lady and she looked at me as if I was intruding on her space. I said nothing to her and continued walking toward the entrance. I knew I saw at least some portion of the future in that lady. I recall when I was in my early twenties. I told my parents that when the time came, I would be there. Well, it's been almost 5 years and I have given up my own pursuits to fulfill the promise I made to my parents. Over the last few years I have made it a point to clarify and/or rectify any and all issues we may have had over the decades. This has been accomplished and as far as that goes, I feel as though I am lucky. My two brothers and sister, however, have been too much into themselves to even make a single phone call to her. I know them and I am aware that my siblings are and have always been very selfish... not unlike many American people today. When the day comes and my brothers and sister show up, it will be my duty to inform them that their mother was aware of the fact that no calls were made and there was no effort on their part to interact with their mother when she needed to have that human family around her. In a way, I know how they feel and just don't have it in them to let the past go. I can only hope that they show up here one day soon to give the warmth and support their mother should have... the very love she would give with every ounce of her being.

I hated the taste of beer. I would sneak a beer from my dad from time to time in an honest effort to try and like it. I really had no interest in the golden drink. Too fucking malty for me. One day my brother threw a keg party and it was wild. There were girls all over the house drunk and half naked. I was just learning about all day erections and eager to get down with a female. In those days I was the reigning masturbation champion, so I was ready to party. I was 15. So the next morning I started hitting that keg. My father caught me and started to laugh. He came over and started drinking himself as he shooed me away. Over the next few months I became friends with a wild bunch of guys. It wasn't long before we all got together to throw a party. It was shaparoned by a friends mother who was a partier herself. She was way cool and very hospitable. That was the first time I felt a girls naked body and it was all my 15 year old mind could ask for. I could tell it wasn't her first time because she removed her clothes in no time flat and took advantage of me right away. In my mind, all was right with the world, but it was messier than I thought it would be. I can't blame the beer and wine for being in that position as I do believe that was the goal. I am glad I started that whole thing early. Guys with less experience, those who get started way later don't get the opportunity to run through all the wild ones that try to throw shit in your face because they start wanting shit; wanting you to go to places like the mall or something along those lines. They start wanting to go to cheese-ball movies and then you have to get along with all her judgmental friends. It really is a hoot. I think if I tried a beer tonight it would make me sick. I can't say I hate the taste of beer because I know I could learn to love it again if I wanted to kill myself. Because if I do ever drink again it will be just before I off myself and nobody will know a thing about it.

The Pretenders - My City Was Gone

I have always appreciated advice from certain people. Other people however freely give advice, but it all sounds like it comes from the same page of the same book. I suppose it's normal for we human being's to have a few solid foundations from which we gain traction in this life. For some, it's the worship of God in whatever religion. I mean, history shows that we human beings kill one another over religion. It affects global politics. Other people find solace in ways other than worshiping a higher being. No matter who or what we use as our foundations for this life, we must always remember that no two people can possibly see this world in the same way(s). This cannot be done. This is why it is important to have a better understanding of where the person is coming from as far as the advice one may choose to receive. Of course, putting any advice into play without some kind of knowledge about who and where they get their thoughts is not a good idea. Even a trusted friend and ally can see the point on much different terms which flags any advice in regard to said point. I am always a bit curious about folks who go straight to their religion as a source and foundation for any advice they might give.

I can spot a depressed person from quite a distance. They come in all shapes and sizes and they come in all colors and classes. For example, depression can be brought on through obsession. Not too long ago, a family man from the midwest came out to Vegas. He gambled for a few days and then went back to his hotel and blew his brains all over the wall of his room. People around here say he pissed away his money and then lost it. I mean, nobody knows a thing about this guy and the majority idea is just that, he lost control and then lost it. Well I think there is more to it than that. I think he had a plan like a friend of mine did back in 92. For some people, depression finally reaches that point of no return. It's that point where thoughts are over and words mean nothing. For some people, the decision is made and the plan is carried out. My friend in 92 did something unusual for a guy however. Most guys just shot themselves in the head. My friend took pills and drank whiskey. I knew he lost all the money his father left him because of his step father and mother. He was used to buying his friends. He never had to buy me. I wish I would have seen it coming. Looking back, I don't think there is much I could have done. It's no big sign of success to notice a depressed person. I just see people that's all. I see in others what exists in myself. I fight every day not to exit this life. I need a reason not to go through with it. I suspect over time it will get increasingly difficult for me.

It's a funny thing about this life. You can have an education and you can have the ability, but if the chance does not present itself or if that chance is not forced upon somebody through incessant phone calls and all out social war, opportunity to thrive within a certain capacity never comes to the surface. It can therefor be said that the world loses... in a way. For example, I have two master's degrees and can't find a job in my area that pays more than a delivery driver. I could work for a casino, but I have done that before and want to try something else. I have nobody to call or lean on for work. I have no friends to kick open doors for me. I only have my word and my education. In the world today, I'm not so sure that I have enough. I like to play straight pool with no gimmicks. I like to get to the point and solve the issue either incrementally over time, right away, or whatever works best for all concerned. As long as progress is being made and not too much compromise is part of the agenda, I am all in. My grandmother told me once that politics is in everything. I believe her words to be true. But politics can be too much of a burden to bear. Too much of oneself is often given away. The result may be more of this or that. But what becomes of you as a result of this or that means priorities are no longer the same. The politics changes and then the goals change. This life, it is a funny thing.

Last night I was reminded of the darkness that comes with heroin. There was a girl so strung out that she had no control of her arms and hands. Her face was twitching and she was as pale as any human can be. I didn't know her, but I know her friend who was playing it down. I think my friend was high on the shit as she was also pale and rather clammy looking. I've seen this crap before. I've seen what women and men will do for a shot of that shit. These people will do whatever it takes to get high. Wherever there is someone strung out, surely there is a bag somewhere nearby. There seems to be a rise in this heroin thing happening. Not only are pain killers becoming a major issue (has been), but there is also a heroin increase happening. I know for a fact that this is not just a poor issue. Heroin like alcohol seems to be readily available on every street. In a town like the one I'm in, something like heroin is just par for the course. But there is something different about it when you see it right in front of your face. You get to see first hand the confusion and the sadness that comes with it. It steals their soul. You cannot dance with the demon and the party always comes to a halt.