I’m kind of a dick sometimes.
Not intentionally, most of the time.
If it wasn’t for Facebook I probably wouldn’t keep in touch with my family and friends.
It’s not that I don’t think about them, even though, if I’m being honest, I don’t spend hours thinking about them.
I miss Cincinnati.
As crazy as it sounds I miss Ohio.
A lot actually.
Many of my fondest memories are of those railroad tracks that Andy and I walked every damn day walking from town to his house.
Bald Ed and I hanging out in the back of the church doing everything that might get us sent to Hell.
My brothers, I miss them.
A lot.
All the people I love, loved, have passed away, I miss them all.
I have no plans on visiting any time soon even though so many people are asking.
I try not to dwell on it.
Often though I see one of them hurting or needing help, and I know there is nothing I can do.
Facebook is good, but in many ways it’s just as bad.
I get back in touch with old friends that I have missed, and then then as soon as we get caught up they’re gone.
I’ve lost so many people that if I really had to think about it I feel like shit that I never talked to them more.
I can’t let myself go there though.
I miss them, but my life is here.
Portland, OR
I often dream about hanging out at Bogarts and Sunsy’s.
I miss hanging out until we couldn’t keep our eyes open at White Castle and Perkins.
I miss the lights, the food, the smells of Cincinnati.
I miss my friends.
I miss my family.
but sometimes I’m a dick…
