I woke up in a field of alfalfa all covered in mosquito's and the great joy that comes with them. I lay still, blinking my eyes at the bright blue sky, inhaling fresh air tinged with the sweet aroma of clover, wondering where the hell I was. Last I knew I was pulling up the leftovers from a weekend excursion on the river and somewhere along that faded trail it all went blank and I came to where I was.

I've recently survived a set of multiple good old time strokes but the fact of the matter is I am still trying to be who I was.

I haven't succumbed and I haven't submitted and I haven't given myself up to the rules made by others.

I am simply not capable of it.

The choices became clear as I was struggling to pick myself up off the ground. Do I submit to the new world order health care system where nanny knows best or do I submit to the love of others? The love of others in an abstract notion is all about guilt. Don't fall down we love you. Take care of yourself, we need you... ect...

The great joy of living is a selfish pursuit and I have come to recognize that but living the way you want is pure freedom and once that taste hits you're tongue it be hard to get it off.

I have not yet decided which path I'm going to follow. I imagine I will be able to divulge that over time.

I want though.

I want to run down some of the biggest rapids I can find. I want to ride in a car going 200 mph. I want to be in one more fistfight, guns and knives allowed and I want to sneak up on a coyote and slit it's throat and make it's howl it's last. I want to hug my mother and my son. My grandma.

It sucks, that I am almost invalid.

All a guy can do is pray to whatever God is out there. When my destiny comes up and i am required to fall for the final time, please at the very least make sure you schedule it for when I am doing something I love.