Don't Bring Me Flowers After I'm Dead

We have to get to appreciating each other as friends, family and loved ones more while we're here and able.

If we're too busy to pick up a phone to say hello, or reply to a text, an e-mail or simply exchange cordial pleasantries, then there's no point in doing it once it's too late. I don't want to keep learning that the hard way. Not anymore.

We're all on borrowed time. With mine, I plan on using it to let as many people who I love and care about know just that.

6/26/13 @ 9:52 P.M.

P.S. Flowers simply made sense for the title. I'll take shoes. LeBrons, preferably.

The One Who Got Away

Everyone's time is up at one point or another, and we rarely know when it is. It can be long and drawn-out, or deathly swift and quick. It can flow smoothly without leaving a trace or be pretty vivid and pretty much stick. Regardless of how it goes, it's sure to happen someday, which makes it extremely humbling when you think about the one who got away.

The one who got away happened so quick, so sudden. Here today, gone tomorrow type of thing. One minute, it was all good, and the next...gone. The times spent together were genuine, with memories made even though the amount of time spent itself wasn't traditionally long. Some months here and there and even in that moment it was clear to say there was never one like you before or since, and it served as proof that you were the one who got away.

Mutual respect turned to appreciation, appreciation to admiration, admiration damn near into infatuation. It can be at the end of the night or first thing in the morning, and regardless of the time, there's no doubt that the thought crosses of the one who got away.

It's almost like chasing a ghost. That person is gone, whether it's in the literal sense or simply from your life. Sure, there may be sporadic communication here and there. It goes back to the whole "mutual respect thing." The interaction and times you shared together are no more, boxed and locked up, only with memories of previous times and a former day. And even when you've long moved on to a different place with new faces, you always remember the one who got away.

This began with the acknowledgment of knowing we all have to go. Thinking about it can be overwhelming, even scary, yet somewhat peaceful. Who knows what lies on the other side? When that time comes, it'll be a point to seek out folks who left this place and we'll probably have a whole lot to say...but even when my time is up and I'm gone from this place, there will always be a spot in my heart for the one who got away.

6/24/13 @ 8:51 P.M.

Feeding The Beast: Summer Reading

My mind is starting to wander...and when that happens, it's time to fill it with some nutritious brain food.

Summer Reading List:

West By West: My Charmed, Tormented Life

Wilt: Larger Than Life

The Bourne Identity

The Bourne Supremacy

The Bourne Ultimatum

Doc: The Rise And Rise Of Julius Erving

The Great Gatsby

Esquire The Handbook Of Style: A Man's Guide To Looking Good


When I'm not in the gym, or at work, I'll be reading.

For fun.

6/17/13 @ 8:04 P.M.

C.C.I.C.A.

Another long night on deck, and even though these seem normal, it can still make me feel like a complete and total wreck.

Some are accidents, where it's not about getting upset at a person, but more so the situation...the factors at hand. When that's the case, getting angry does no good, so my disposition has to stay cool, the fire in me has to be fanned.

That's what accidents are all about. There's no one to blame. But what if it isn't an accident. Just carelessness with no regard to how one's actions can have an effect on another being. Can a person be so caught up in the moment that they disregard the pain that they're seeing? Maybe it is, especially when a motto is to look out for number one...and if that means someone gets hurt or insulted along the way, well, they can just get on with their day and fun.

Common courtesy is becoming a lost art, a thing of the past...almost like seeing a unicorn or hearing a record on a record player play in its own distinct sound. As if you go ahead and show it to someone, they acknowledge it briefly, yet smile and move on around. It's not a "woe is me," but more like a sign of the times. And at this point, it's better to charge it to the game and proceed to another destination, with no hopes of any similar crimes.

6/2/13 @ 2:48 A.M.