And you smell like one too

Happy Birthday, iLL boy. Year forty-three looks fine so far. Good weather. Most of the same challenges (a mature way of saying problems), but with a less anxious relationship with them. Writing my real feelings seems overly selfish and/or self absorbed. Still learning about how to deal with, develop and enjoy sexuality. Both alone and within this marriage. Friends still fucked up and frustrating. Family still supportive, distant and mostly residing in various states of denial.

A few months ago an aunt called Florida Department of Child Services on us to make sure we weren’t sexually abusing Rinah (see previous entry). We were recommended to hire a lawyer. Didn’t. It went away, luckily; “no signs of sexual abuse”. One source suggests that our telling them that we were hiring a lawyer is what made them go away, as it’s their job to keep a certain number of active “cases”, and poor, ignorant families make the easiest marks.

Like many artists, I have always thought that my output will some day be widely enjoyed. Still languishing between obscurity and non-existence, relatively speaking - so as not to devalue the many awesome friends and family who continue to support and believe in me - this becomes more and more of an optimistic outlook.

We performed a bunch of our new kids music at a toddler event yesterday and one of the parents mentioned that creative subjects are continually being cut from the school curriculum. Creativity is one of the most important things we can learn for a joyous and spirit-filled existence.

We’re excited about the Occupy Wall Street movement and hoping to see it develop into this generations Civil Rights Movement. More optimism.

An ex-girlfriend who broke my heart badly (returning the favor) years ago recently reached out to my best friend. I was an ass. If I could go back and shake myself I’d probably be too busy anyway and doubt it would do much good. There’s something soothing about old wounds.

This writing comes at the price of, among other things, earning a living today. So thanks to those who help pay for our food stamps.

Much love and a thousand blessings to all readers.