It’s been a while America. Anyone still there?

Oh we don’t know the roads that we’re heading down
We don’t know if we’re lost, that we’ll find a way
We don’t know if we leave, will we make it home
We don’t know, there’s hope, then we’ll be okay

It’s hard when you’re living and you don’t feel much
And you’re down and you’re hurting ’cause you don’t feel loved
It’s hard when you’re living and you don’t feel much
And you’re down and you’re hoping that things are gonna change

In this life we feel entitled to happiness. We have faith in the happy ending and the smooth road. Well some people, mainly everyone, don’t get those cards. You have to fight and believe. You will inevitably die like the rest. Some are lucky in business and unlucky in love. Some only have bad luck. Some get cancer when they are twelve. Some get wounded in war because they wanted there family to have it better then they did. We will all feel pain and loss.

I was a man raised by women. Every boy needs a Father. Dad was left but he did have the balls to come back just long enough to die of AIDS and it broke my heart to watch him suffer. I miss him everyday. He was the best and our time was to short. I don’t wish that kind of pain on trump. You want to lay down, shake and cry every time you think about it because that loss never goes away. Every song, pancake, smoke, and when you need guidance only a father can give. All I can do is ask a picture on my desk.

So we all should go kill ourselves right? Wrong my mom, rose and sister raised a Gentleman. (Gentleman is a metaphor for someone who accepts responsibility and the cards he is dealt taylor oceans is not sexist or racist he was raised by three women with the biggest balls in the world). They raised someone who isn’t in this life for happiness. He is looking for an honorable fight. He is here to make this world better for all people so that one day no one has to feel that pain. Because it never goes away. So we all have a roof over our heads, food in our belly, books to read, the love of a family, clean air and clean oceans.

Some of us have to hack it more then others. We won’t get what we want. We won’t get the family. We will get cancer. We will lose those who we love. But that doesn’t give us the right to be assholes. We won’t take it out on the sales rep, we won’t ignore our friends problems substituting and quantifying our own. We will hold the door for everyone in the human race. We will pull over and help. We will fight for our fellow man and woman. We will conduct ourselves with honor. We will do our part for the human race. For that dream.

I picked this song for two reason. First holy shit it is hysterical the Capt nailed his entrance. Street fighter for life. Second as individuals we are only a solo act. Together we can be Capt Strumbella and fight the Dark in this world. We will always lite a candle. We can be kind to the sales rep. We all have to make a living and if you don’t have a degree and want to make +80k to afford your invention you hustle. You hustle like a southside pimp because the asshole bitching you out for no reason is going to benefit from your dream. We can love and support those around us free of obligation or judgement. Because it is honorable to respect everyone and we need that self-standard. So everyday when you look in the mirror you can see a good, pure, honorable human being. We can trust and work together as the human race. That is the master race. All of us together fighting and loving as one. So let it all go and stand honorably with me every minute of everyday.  The entitlement, judgement, the pain of loss, your views on cultural norms and our basic animal instinct to kill and fuck… That is my Dad’s legacy. It is my dream.

 

Addendum

We can keep the fuck part I take that back. Fuck like animals that is good. That sweaty raunchy, passionate shit that wakes the neighbors. You need to take a shower after but your too damn tired and pass out next to the person you love most. Or hooker whatever works. I can make that joke I’ve been paid for sex.

 

Next year will be ten years Dad. Sorry I missed your anniversary again, but you know me I’m like you. Distracted and never thinking of the here and now. But your lessons are always with me. I’m a dreamer. I miss you a lot and our conversations. See you at the end of the bar Dad, but I still have some things to do here that will make you proud. I don’t know the roads I am heading, I don’t know if there is a hope it will be OK. But I will always be honorable. Just like you taught me. Rest in Peace.

Long Live the Writers

Taylor Oceans

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