Now is a Good Time to Live

I urge you now, please. This thing we have and these moments we share are only fragments of time. They are small yet valuable. Every minute we have is priceless. Life is invaluable but yet, life is this short little atom of space and time. Nothing more. 
And life? All of this is only a version. This is only a vision. Me, you, the trees outside and the mountains behind my home. The city and the landscapes, the views, the birds in the sky, the sea and the valleys; everything is only a vision. 

I urge you, please.
Think clearly. Put down all the common distractions we cling to. Let go of the useless arguments. Release the pettiness, and the inaccurate assumptions, which are nothing at all. None of this is anything. All we are is all we have, which is this moment and the here and now.

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From the Junkie Stories: Just a Story

The name of the town was Deposit. I remember the name well because to me, the name was almost repulsive. Who the hell would ever want to live in a town called Deposit?
I never heard of this place before. Then again, I never heard about most of the towns in this area. There were like tiny little compartments of different places that were left behind in a time warp. I saw them as little mountain towns, like something from a Norman Rockwell painting with farms and barns and fields with cows.
The fashions up there were different to me, which is not to say that I was fashionable by any means. But still, everything about the little towns seemed behind.
Besides, I was used to New York City and the Five Boroughs. I was brought up in a crazy Long Island town but at least there was action. At least I was close to what I thought was the pulse of life. I went from this to institutional life. Then I eventually moved to farm life for a long-term stay.

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Can You Believe It’s Been a Year Already?

I am thinking about this time last year. I was in the City, which was empty. The stores were all closed and the streets were like a ghost town. Within my time in this world, I have never seen New York City like this. Shut down. Boarded up, as if World War III dropped the bomb on us all.
I walked across 3rd Avenue in the middle of the business day. There were no cars. There were hardly any pedestrians in sight. Again, this was like wartime. We were quarantined. People were running out of toilet paper and there were restrictions at the supermarket.
No one expected this would last as long as it has. No one thought the virus would kill so many or keep growing. There were second waves, third waves and supposedly a fourth wave too. Only, it was strange to me because it seemed like none of us have recovered from the first wave yet.

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From Letters: Dear Pop

It is morning in purgatory. . .
It’s strange to realize where we are sometimes. The way things are and the way things have been have certainly changed throughout the years. Life is different now. Then again, this is not to say life won’t be different in say, two years or maybe less. All I know is the world I believed in is less than what I had hoped it would be. We’ve gone crazy down here. All of us.

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Put the Bags Down

There is always someone coming around to claim some new cure. And we listen too. We hope. We think and we wonder. We talk to one another about things like, “Say? What would it be like if we could just push a button and have all of this craziness just go away?”
Just the push of a button and everything that hurt would be healed. No pain. No procedure. No process or recovery. Just relief. Could you imagine?

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From the Abstract: Monday’s Meditation

Nothing is ever going to wait.
You know this, right?  The saying “Time waits for no one,” is true.
Time doesn’t wait for anyone. At least, not in this lifetime.

Time moves and someday, the sapling we see will someday become a tree, tall enough to shade the grounds that you and I used to walk on. Eventually, all of this will be a memory. Even if we are stuck, like say, stuck in the past for example; or say, if we ourselves are caught in the snags of something either said or unsaid, either way, the morning will still change to become noon. Before we know it, noon becomes sunset. Then twilight becomes nighttime until morning comes again.

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The Daddy Diaries: A Letter

I don’t know where people go when they leave. For one, I don’t know where I’ll be when the future changes. I don’t know what happens with people after they lose touch or have a falling out. I only know about what happens to us, or should I say me. I know that the rest of your life is right there. Everything is in front of you. The choice is yours, who stays, who goes and all the options in-between are right there and yours for the taking.

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Four Days and a Wake-up

I am four days and a wake-up away from something I call my anniversary. And as for this or to those who don’t know, I am four days away from acknowledging a specific date. I am 30 years away from a night that nearly killed me as well as possibly someone else. I am 30 years away from my last binge and 30 years away from a night of breaking in through the windows of a few suburban homes.

I say four days and a wake-up for a reason. I say it this way because of the roll call I had to answer for. I had to answer for this, each morning at a facility in a place up at a town called Kerhonkson, New York.

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For a Kid

Little kids . . .
Bless them. Bless their little lives and their little smiles. Let them run. Let them play. Bless their thoughtful little lives and bless their lessons to take turns and share. Learn from them. Don’t scold them. Don’t change them either. Let them be this way, young and innocent. Beautiful as ever.

Let them laugh. Let them pretend. Let them dream because a day will come when pretending and playing is frowned upon. Playtime will be over before they know it. And yet, they don’t even know it. Time moves very quickly. So, let them be as they are because a time will come and their childhood will be over. And that’s it. It’s adult time. So again, I say bless them. Bless them for exactly what they are, just kids.

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Notes From the Heart: A Fine Farewell

There was a dull orange glow on a rocky ledge in the darkness of the surrounding woods. My elevation was high enough that I could look down at the world. I was high enough to see things from a different point of view. The sky was covered in stars that night. The moon was full and all else was quiet. I swear, it is amazing what we hear when there is no noise. It is amazing what we hear when there is nothing in the background, except for the voice of our thoughts. 

The world is such a big place. And we are small. Really small. We are less than a glimpse. Our connection with time is lengthy, yet, our time in the grand scheme of time is quicker than a flashing light. There are so many things that happen at once. There are too many ideas that come at one time and more often than not, there’s a lot more riding on each and every moment.

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