I think a lot about the way my father acts ... He has this pure, honest and innocent selfishness to him, the sort a boulder has rolling down a hill.. Like when someone expressed a deeply intimate and profound last wish, dad/s reaction would be - don't be ridiculous. Of course we will fight!

Because of him I am bound to be eternally torn between serenity and a lightning storm. My heart is a war inside a museum. Is a poem written in spilled milk. Is a lifelong grudge against lifelong grudges. What a freaking legacy. What a freaking golden toxic radioactive isotope of a heart to have.

He also searches for mushrooms in suspenders and no shirt on, looking like an elder character in a redneck horror movie. No wonder we are always alone in the forest.