Therapy?

Sometimes you sit down and think, and the words come at once, they flow naturally. That’s the beauty and spontaniety of writing. But naturally when the subject matter is heavy more thoughts and doubts appear from within and out of nowhere. And before you know it, you are scared of even the thought of writing, putting down thoughts to words.

This happened for the past month. I knew what I wanted to write and how to go about it. Just that… I don’t think I could do justice to it any way I put it. For the life of me, no amount of writing could do justice to the person I owe my entire life to, and base my own life upon. My father.

This would be a Father’s Day entry 5 months late. The accompaniment to my earlier entry. People often remember Mother’s Day well… the 2nd Sunday of May. People should do well to remember the 3rd Sunday of June too.

Right now, 11:00pm, it’s raining out, Thirteen Senses playing in the background, I am ready to share the moment that defines my father best.