I could probably write a whole dissertation on the unfairness of love, but I won't. I could rant on about how many mistakes we all make in relationships. I'll let that slide, also. What I discovered or should I say rediscovered is that some love doesn't fade. It smolders unnoticed and unattended and then it takes only a word...a thought...a touch to ignite the fire that once was. That realization made me both happy and sad.

When something is right, it remains right. It withstands the horrible disappointments and remains honest and open regardless of past scars. There is no fear in letting the person know how you feel even at the risk of those feelings being unreciprocated. Love is brave and foolhardy all in the same moment. Imagine a tree reaching upward towards the sky...arms open...strong and ready to embrace any of the sky's unpredictability and to weather any storm. Limbs break, leaves fall, yet the tree still stuggles to live and grow.

There's a quiet place deep inside that harbors that special love against the unfairness and mistakes. It sits patiently awaiting... believing in love itself. That place transcends the obstacles and sometimes in a few rare cases where the people are bold enough to take a chance and to make their dreams into reality, they seek the love that safely lives in the shadows. They fearlessly bring it out into the sunlight together. Then it no longer exists only in dreams or in the stillness of all the 4 a.m.'s spent alone remembering, hungering for a touch that once made each day filled with passion and laughter. Something inside me awakened as it has in the past. It smiled and my eyes twinkled for a moment before it retreated back into the safety of the darkness within my cave.


Today, I went to my first group therapy for survivors of sexual abuse. One of the many subjects that were briefly touched upon was promiscuity. While I was driving home, I started having flashbacks of my vast sexual encounters and how for the most part I always seemed to have more of a male attitude towards sex than a typical female attitude. For us survivors, promiscuity can range from having a barrage of one-night stands to having group sex or any combination inbetween. By the time, we reach middle age our tally for sexual encounters is usually off the chart. I think one key ingredient of promiscuous behavior is our lack of sexual boundaries. We become clueless to how morality governs most people's sexual behavior. Anything and everything goes and sex becomes just another addiction, a tool or in some cases, a game to keep us amused.

I met my closest friend in Pensacola while I was attending college in the early 1980's. She was going through nursing school and happened to take one of the same academic courses as I was taking. I was 28 years old at the time. Mary was 11 years older than I am, but the age difference didn't seem to matter to either of us. What we found as we got to know each other was that we had many things in common including what first put us on the road to being lifelong friends. We both had the hots for our professor. He wasn't someone who would ever be described as being handsome, but the man had charisma and sex appeal oozing from his pores. Our "girl talks" about him definitely laid the foundation for our friendship.

Our children are roughly the same ages with the exception of her having a son by a previous marriage who is about 10 years younger than I am. After listening to my friend endlessly complain about her 18-year-old son having a bad attitude, one day I jokingly told her that he needed to get laid. She surprised me with a very atypical response by suggesting that I take care of his problem and put a smile on his face. I dwelled on that thought for a few weeks before approaching him with an offer he couldn’t refuse.

Like most people, I do have fantasies, but I'm the type of person who never kept a fantasy for very long. Savoring a thought only frustrated me...the real satisfaction for me was acting out my fantasy when the opportunity arose. I learned very early in life, opportunities always arise. One only need to be patient and be ready to act. Some of you who like reading gory details will be disappointed because this entry will lack the highlights of my deflowering this 18-year-old virgin with one exception. I will reveal that I made him keep the lights on because I like to see what I'm doing. As I remembered how modest and nervous I was the first time I had sex as a willing participant, suddenly the teacher-student relationship I forged with Philip seemed far less impressive than it was over 25 year ago. I used to laugh when I thought of how traumatized he probably was that first time and now it just makes me sad to think what I shared with him was void of any love and respect.

Now, I can see what drove me to being that wicked woman I was. As our relationship progressed, we went on to create an incentive-based game of playing Trivia Pursuit for sex. The winner got anything they wanted. Now, looking back, in reality, I never got what I wanted most because I never allowed myself the luxury of having just a normal relationship with anyone. Any physical relationship I've ever had bore the mark of being twisted, amoral and self-destructive.

Gratitude statement: I'm thankful for the strength to look at my past with eyes wide open.


While I was abducted by aliens, they revealed a new breed of cow indigenous to North Carolina (the oreo cow). This makes me wonder what type of magic mushrooms would grow in this field. The little green bastards also made it snow while I was there as punishment for me being uncooperative. I'm once again home sweet home in sunny Florida with the windows open so I can listen to my feathered friends singing. Isn't life wonderful when the aliens decide to probe the next person and kick you to the curb? I guess my "PROBE-FREE HUMAN" sign finally worked after all these years. Or maybe I'm just too old for the anal probe deluxe.

Gratitude statement: I'm thankful for Mother Nature and all her oddities large and small.


I'm going to The Smoky Mountains and will be back blogging on the 26th.

Gratitude statement: I'm thankful spring is finally in the air!


When my children were still in school, they used to visit their grandparents on school holidays. I would drive halfway to Pensacola to meet my mother and place my children in her care. The first few days seemed like bliss and then the house gradually seemed way too quiet. By the time I would pick up my children, I was more than ready to have them come home again.

My mother was always rather rigid while I was growing up and had a very diplomatic way of handling punishment. If the guilty party didn't confess the first time when we were asked "who did it?", we all suffered the consequences. As I grew older and eventually became a parent myself, the woman who raised me seemed to change. Had I broken her spirit? Possibly! But each time my children would rave on about the fun-loving person who they perceived their grandmother to be, I knew it wasn't the same person who raised me. My mother was proof that aliens do exist! Ask anyone from my old neighborhood! They knew Rosalie Goggins was a force to be reckoned with.

Each time my children would go for a visit, it took weeks before I could straighten them out. My mother waited on them hand and foot and made them do nothing but fun things while they visited her. When they came home sassy and quite lazy, I would want to pull my hair out. One time while driving home, my children seemed quite mesmerized by the joke book one of them had gotten while in Pensacola. One of the visiting rituals was to take my three children (her angelic grandchildren) to Hawsey's, a used bookstore and let them each purchase a paper bag full of books to read.

Since they were quiet on our trip home and this was an oddity, I tried to engage them in conversation only to be told they were reading jokes. That explained the occasional chuckle I heard from the backseat. I asked them to read aloud some of the jokes. My youngest child, Matthew spoke up and said he would read one. Although he was only 7 at the time, his reading skills were quite advanced for someone his age. As Matthew read, I almost drove off the road.

Whats' the definition of "confusion"?
Twenty blind lesbians in a fish market!

What? Now, with glee they started reading more jokes from the book until I asked them where they got the book. In unison...HAWSEY'S! And your grandmother let you buy that? Well, she never screened the books that were bought, so the book titled Truly Tasteless Jokes was easily purchased by my son, Daniel (age 9). When they all went on to recite the dirty little ditties my mother had taught them I knew she had lost her mind or maybe the rules that apply to being a parent were different from those being a grandparent. It definitely was a gotcha moment lovingly given to me by my mother. To this day, my mother just smiles innocently when this story is told.

A flock of birds
Chocked full of tirds
Flew over my father's castle
They stretched their necks
And shit a peck
Then closed up their assholes.

Gratitude statement: I'm thankful I don't live in a castle near a fish market.


Several years ago my mother told me that ALL birds sit the same direction when sitting on a wire. Momentarily, I forgot this was the same women who told me that Santa Claus, The Easter bunny and the tooth fairy were real.
The day I discovered that birds do their own thing brought about a similar feeling as I had when I discovered Santa Claus really didn't make that arduous trek each year on Christmas Eve. For the longest time I kept looking at birds on a wire hoping she was right! I even told myself maybe she meant if they sit there long enough they'd get on the same page. When I finally came to the conclusion what she had told me was hogwash (yes, hogwash), I shook my head and wondered why she had lied to me...AGAIN! I immediately told my daughter, the princess that her grandmother was crazy!

I was probably a lot younger than most kids when they come to the realization that Santa Claus isn't real. Thanks to my 3 older brothers, I was 5 when they enlightened me. The enlightenment had a definite purpose. After all, of course they didn't seize the moment to once again crush me like they had by hiding my decapitated dolls under the house and cutting all the stuffing out of them or begging my mother to take me for a ride in the stroller only to let me roll down a hill and smack into a tree. This enlightenment came about as a result of my mother telling them when I stopped believing in Santa Claus, the family would open their gifts on Christmas Eve instead of Christmas Day. My mother felt it was easier to "get it out of the way" the night before, so she could concentrate on cooking the next day. Let's just say, the Santa myth was thoroughly debunked in 1960.

As an adult, I started wondering why do we do that to children. Why do we set them up for their first major disillusionment? Would it be wrong to tell them from the start that Santa Claus is just make believe? I often wondered why we do the same thing with God and Jesus to children. Can't we can teach children morality and goodness without doing it with fear tactics? Instead, the fear of burning in eternal damnation if they aren't good people and believe in a deity that allows horrible things to happen to good people is drummed into their minds. Shouldn't we lead by example? Shouldn't we put telling the truth at the top of the list when teaching children about life and how to deal with people in general? Shouldn't we do the right thing just because it feels right?

Gratitude statement: I am thankful for the moments of clarity I have.


Daniel Fogelberg
August 13, 1951 – December 16, 2007
Written by an anonymous fan: "Dan, I finally hugged my father before he left; I finally found peace after lost love; I finally claimed a purple mountain for my soul -- all this because of your musical journey, always more than lyrics and melodies. I finally discovered gratitude and grace. Your music is timeless; your heart, boundless."

Gratitude statement: Sometimes lasting memories are formed under the strangest of circumstances and sometimes people only need to briefly touch your life in order to have a lasting effect on it.


This is my beautiful daughter, Princess Christina. She would like to have people believe I hung a porkchop around her neck as a child so at least the dogs would play with her. What a sassy little vixen she is and also she's bursting at the seams from being full of crap! She's talented in so many ways and I truly wish she would see her full potential instead of spinning her wheels like yours truly (I guess this comes from being raised by a mother who had potential, but did everything she could to destroy it).

Gratitude statement: I'm thankful for rubber porkchops because they are reusable!


The past week has been hard for me. The lightbulb has gone off several times and I've found myself saying, "WOW! an epiphany!".
What's strange about these lightbulb moments are that they have come at odd times when I wasn't really engaged in deep thought. It's almost as though some stuff I've kept stuffed down for so long is surfacing because it has no place else to go, but up. These moments are allowing me to see me in a different light.

I think the strangest of the epiphanies is the one concerning sex. Since a very young age I've looked at sex through hedonistic eyes. At times, I've been very promiscuous, but I've never felt bad about being sexually uninhibited. For the last 5 years I've been in self-imposed "time-out". Okay, that time-out came as a result of a broken heart, but nonetheless it has given me time to distance myself from something I always felt clouded my judgment. In my case, sex makes me brain dead. The more I have, the more comfortably numb I become. Sex has completely destroyed my judgment skills and has left me morally bankrupt. Now throw drugs into that mix and yourself have free-spirited, pleasure-seeking junkie!

Can I link my bad behavior to any particular cause? You betcha! But instead of feeling angry, I feel sadness. I feel sadness for all the time I truly wasted on cheap, sleazy sex and thrill-seeking scumbags. I feel regret for all the "nice" men I've known and have never given a chance because they weren't Billy Badass. I always believed nice=boring and for me nice just didn't get it done. Masturbation was more stimulating than sex with a nice man. I can't tell you how many first dinner dates I sat engrossed in pleasant conversation with a perfectly nice man while my head is screaming, "NOT IN THIS FUCKING LIFETIME" as I tried imagining my long legs wrapped around my dinner date.

What disheartens me the most is realizing that my most memorable personal accomplishment is having a lifetime filled with being self-destructive. Oh, but instead of getting the job done all at once, I felt I deserved a lifetime of being dragged slowly over the coals to kill myself a little at a time. Now, I'm trying hard to find ways to break that cycle. For someone who has always acted on impulse, it's difficult to leap cautiously back into life and then stop myself to ask questions first before I do anything.

Do I really want to do this? Is this the right thing to do? How will it effect me? Those are basic questions that most people have been asking themselves all their life, but those questions are a major thing for me! Being "normal" is overwhelming to say the least! I really didn't realize how far down into the pit I've fallen until I started trying to climb out. Hopefully, what hasn't kill me will only make me stronger. Hopefully, as I peel away the layers of semen-laced crud, I'll see the person others see. And hopefully, as I climb my way out into daylight, I'll be able to forgive myself as easily as I have forgiven others who have caused me pain.

Gratitude statement: I'm thankful for having 20/20 hindsight.


It's no secret that I consider war immoral. You see, I think slaughtering others is a completely avoidable act and that peace can be accomplished through peaceful means. (Please don't jump in here and give me a rash of shit about what if someone attacks you. Self-defense is an entirely different story. We all have survival instincts and should use them when and if needed!) Wars should be as a last resort and then I'm still not comfortable with the mass annihilation that takes place. I know my beliefs are idealistic, but it's my right to feel anyway I want to feel and believe in whatever I want! If you read the post before this one you can pretty much see where my religious leanings are...I'm all for brotherly love and doing unto others as you would have them do unto you and yes, the Ten Commandments are cool, but that's where it ends for me. I'm sorry, but I'm a "show me" type of person and God has never shown me that he or she really exists. I have a zero in the faith department when it comes to worshipping a deity or deities.

I tend more to go along with Karl Marx and believe religion is the opiate of the masses that gives the down-trodden something to look forward to....death and the here after! Come on! What a crock of's like the gold stars you give a little kid to bribe them into being good. Okay people, here's your get to sit in heaven and play harps and sing songs for eternity. I'm sorry if the thought of that being my reward for being good doesn't exactly win me over. Nope, I'm not a puppy in search of yummies and if I do get a yummy I want it NOW. Oh no, I hear praying going on and those prayers are for me. Okay, so if you must pray for me, pray I get a new spine and a BMW. Oh hell, at this point I'll settle for a BMW and a handful of Percocets. Then I can cruise on the highway of life going 120mph and feel on top of the world.

Gratitude statement: I am thankful your God loves me just the way I am.


I posted the anonymous quote found below to my Facebook page and before I go any further let me explain why so many people are on Facebook...mindless banter. That's it! It's a site to "hang-out" and vegetate and to reconnect with old friends. So anyway, I posted this quote about religion knowing that it would stir the pot...and it did! Amazingly enough, most people really missed the whole "if you're gonna talk the talk, then walk the walk" point of the quote. It never ceases to amaze me how defensive people can get over nothing.

I guess those who squeal the loudest must be the most guilty. That whole "I'm in church on Sunday, so I can do WTF I feel like doing the rest of the week and God will forgive me because I'm imperfect and a sinner so I'm supposed to sin" mentality makes me want to vomit. If you're a Christian stop back biting! Stop gossiping! Stop walking past people in need! Stop judging everyone except yourself! Act more Christ-like! And stop sending me fucking religious stuff! If I want to be a hedonist that's just what I'll be because I like pleasure. If I claim to be a heathen, then just go about your merry Bible thumping way. You can pray for my eternally damned soul, but stop trying to cram Jesus down my throat. By the way, shouldn't a person lead by example and not by "do as I say and not as I do"? If you really want me to see the light, you need to stop giving Christianity such a bad name!

"Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than going to a garage makes you a mechanic."

Gratitude statement: I'm thankful that when I do something from the heart, it's from the heart and not motivated by some fear mongering dogma.


Ex-lovers make good speed bumps.

Gratitude statement: I'm thankful that not all people think like I think.


Remember the good old days of telling a joke to a group of friends? And if that joke was funny, you had the privilege of hearing people's laughter. Now, each time I check my email, my inbox is stuffed full of a few things..spam and jokes from the same few people. Okay, spam is something I guess I can remedy fairly easy, but the other is something I really don't understand and find it unnecessary and quite annoying. I would much rather have someone write a few lines ocassionally asking me how I'm doing than to have this daily barrage of jokes I never even open.

If a person feels the overwhelming urge to forward jokes to everyone in their address book, why do they do it by just hitting the FORWARD option? I, for one don't want the whole world to know my email address. The BLIND CARBON COPY (BCC) option seems to be one of the most underused email features there is. Why isn't the rule of thumb for any joke being passed around the internet that if you wouldn't tell the joke out loud to a group of people then it isn't worth passing along in an email? "LOL" just isn't the same thing as actual laughter. Some things just don't have a suitable substitute like manners, good judgment and laughter just to name a few.

Don't get me wrong! I’m all for passing along a FUNNY joke, but most of the jokes I've had the misfortune to open and read only makes me wonder if the sender ever reads what they send before they forward it to their entire contact list. A little screening beforehand might make the recipients of stupid jokes stop wondering what kind of drugs a person would have to take in order to make these jokes appear to be funny. Come on people! Think about those several jokes you forward to everyone daily and then multiply that by 4 or 5 well-meaning friends and acquaintances who obviously have alot time on their hands.

If I read everything that was sent to me each day and passed it on like instructed so I'll have some stroke of good fortune within the next few minutes, show my loyalty as a friend by sending it back to the sender and to show my patriotism or support to some organization by keeping the chain alive, I'd have to give up the few hours I sleep each night. Perhaps there lies my problem...if I spent more time keeping the chains and jokes going instead of trashing them, I'd be a millionaire now. I’d have friends who know I love them and there would be no question as to where my allegiance lies!!!

It sounds ridiculous when I put it like that, doesn't it? I just find it incredible that people actually pass that crap around without ever thinking about what they're doing. Maybe I'm missing some hidden point and if so, I wish someone would explain it to me because I really don't understand why any intelligent person would forward something like that to all their friends when most people find it to be such an annoying practice. Is this just another one of those delicate subjects that people find difficult to discuss with their friends?

You know, like the person who has bad breath or smelly feet and you back up every time they get close to you. You can't believe the person doesn't realize how offensive the odor is and wonder how they can be so blissfully ignorant to something like that. How do you enlighten a person without hurting their feelings? Many times I’ve sent an email to the guilty parties saying things like "I really appreciate being included in the list of people you forward jokes to on a regular basis, but I'd really prefer just to hear how you're doing every now and then instead." Obviously, my email must have been deleted as spam and never opened because the jokes just keep on coming and coming and coming... For good fortune send this to 5 friends in the next 5 minutes!!!

Gratitude statement: I'm thankful for my sense of humor because it allows me to know when something is funny or when it's just annoying and not worth a chuckle or two.


Each of us are born, we live our lives and then we die. What makes us different from one another are the journeys we take and the adventures we have. Life is such a precious commodity, yet we seem to take it for granted at times. Many people seem to think there will always be a tomorrow. Tomorrow gives us another chance to make it right and to do all those things we didn't do today. What would happen if each of us spent today as if it were our last? Would we then tell the people we love just how much they mean to us? Would we call that old friend we haven't heard from in ages just to take a trip down memory lane and to laugh about the good old days? Would we take a leap of faith and follow our dreams as they beckon each of us? Would we suddenly see the magic in life?

Gratitude statement: I'm thankful for second chances.


The Final Ride

The act of dying
is like hitch-hiking
into a strange town
late at night
where it is cold
and raining,
and you are alone

all the street lamps
go out
and everything
becomes dark,
so dark
that even the buildings
are afraid
of one another.

by Richard Brautigan (January 30, 1935 – September 14, 1984)

Gratitude statement: I am thankful that I haven't journeyed to this "strange town" yet.


If giving is more important than receiving, when is the right time to stop and think about ourselves and our own needs? I'm one of those people who give my 150% in anything I do, but have felt at times my giving nature has set me up to be used. Since I don't know how to be any other way and have no real desire to alter who I am, I'm left with the question of when is enough really enough?

If the strong really will inherit the earth, is it the emotional vampires (people who drain us completely dry) who will reign supreme eventually or will it be the do-gooders and hermits of the world?

I'm tired of my cave, but afraid to meander out amongst the masses for fear of the unknown. The unknown has screwed me over too many times. I feel weak and fragile right now. Sleepy? Yep! You betcha! I had a horrible day yesterday and couldn't unwind enough to close my eyes.

One friend was talking about suicide and another one was ranting and spewing venomous hate and discontent my way. I actually got accused of not knowing what real pain feels like. I was told I didn't know how it feels to lose a parent who was more than just a parent, but also a friend. I was told I didn't know how it feels to lose everything and to have nothing. I was told I don't know what it feels like to love so intensely that mere words cannot come close to describing the feeling.

[Karen, you stupid bitch, pay attention when you're in the presence of greatness (a legend in his own mind) and learn to be humble!] [Like that's ever gonna happen in this lifetime!]

Gratitude statement: I'm extremely grateful that while not answering the phone may be morally or ethically's not illegal! Self-preservation rules, baby! Thank God, yesterday is over!


Robert Crumb
Born: August 30, 1943
Crumb was a founder of the underground comix movement and is regarded as its most prominent figure. One of his most recognized works is the "Keep on Truckin'" comic, which became widely distributed in the 1970s. Others Crumb characters are Devil Girl, Fritz the Cat, and Mr. Natural. The first issue of Zap Comix was published in San Francisco in early 1968 and featured the work of satirical cartoonist Robert Crumb.

Gratitude statement: I'm thankful that when I tuned in, turned on and dropped out, I was in good company.


The summer of bible camp was "the summer of love" (1967). How ironic I thought, while others everywhere were tuning in, turning on and dropping out, I was trying to understand basic human nature and to find out if God really does exist. From a child's perspective, I grew up thinking if the people who claim they love me and want to protect me will hurt me, then what will the rest of the world do to me? The funny thing about it is that I've gone through life waiting and wanting someone to prove me wrong. My logic says since people are human and humans are flawed, anyone is bound to hurt/disappoint someone else, but on a deeper level (one still filled with idealism and good things that can't be destroyed by this cesspool called life) I choose to hold onto the belief that love is a good thing and in many situations is the only thing that keeps us afloat.

After that summer when I fell short of receiving God's grace, I turned to trying to understand evil instead. When the Satanic Bible by Anton LaVey was hot off the presses, I purchased one and read it from cover to cover hoping for a lightbulb moment. Needless to say, it was just another book filled with words written by man and it didn't explain the great mysteries of life any more than The Bible had. My spiritual journey I suppose some would say was corrupted by my inability to believe what I couldn't see. Instead of blindly believing I questioned instead. If God loved us so much then why does bad things happen to good people? Where are the miracles? Why are there wars, fathom and disease? No one seemed to be able to adequately answer these things through the verses they would throw my way. I needed more than words on a page to swallow anything I was told about God.

Eventually my salvation was found in my experimentation with drugs. As that experimentation deepened, I found certain drugs had a numbing effect. That feeling was one my whole body craved.... especially my emotions. Nothing bothered me as long as I stayed high, so by the age of 14 I stayed high all the time. I could easily sit back and blame my choices on my genetic background. I'm sure the long line of alcoholism that runs on both sides of my family would be enough of reason to say I didn't stand a chance not to be a substance abuser, yet somehow I know that's not why I changed the path I had walked as a small child. You see, I actively sought out finding something that would make me numb. It took me many years to realize that without drugs I would have been a much uglier statistic. I chose drugs. They didn't choose me.

Looking back on it, I call the next 16 years of my life "my leap of faith". They say God looks out for fools and drunks, but I think He/She has a special fondness for all addicts. Addictions, whatever they may be, cause an emotional bankruptcy in the person. No love is greater than that of a person and their drug of choice. When I say "drug", I include food, sex, gambling, shopping, work or whatever it is a person uses to escape. All other things in life come second regardless of what we tell ourselves or everyone else. That moment, at the climax when nothing else matters, I found freedom from pain and a facade that made me think nothing could hurt me again. Many years later, when the truth stared me in the face daring me to look elsewhere, I realized the truth would set me free.

Gratitude statement: I'm thankful for the fleeting moments of the truth I see.


For a friend and for anyone who heard the drumming...

Gratitude statement: I'm grateful to have lived in a time that was very different than today's world.


I'm in pain and I'm scared.

Gratitude statement: In some twisted way, I'm thankful for the pain because it makes me know I'm still alive.


Long ago (and far away) I programmed myself to require "background noise" in order to fall asleep. Yes, I actually do sleep for short periods of time occasionally. If I fall asleep while watching television and someone turns the television off, I immediately wake up. Silence boggles my brain! Years ago, reading a book was like a sleeping pill for me, but now I can't read. Books are purchased and piled on my nightstand with the first page reread about a thousand times before I give up. WTF! I used to be an avid reader and now, I enjoy nothing.

Is that the depression stripping me of all pleasure? Does depression affect comprehension and our ability to retain what we read? I think I have come to know what adult ADD (attention deficit disorder) feels like. When I have the strength and stamina, I start one thing and before long I find myself doing some entirely unrelated task without finishing the first. Round and round I go until finally I come back to the first task and finish it.

This cycle used to happen quickly, but these days some tasks take months or years to complete. Procrastination? Not really! It's my distractibility that keeps me unfocused and unable to stay on task. Perhaps, I've always been this way, but unable to see it until I got depressed and started slowing down and really examining myself.

Gratitude statement: I'm grateful for the 100+ television stations I have to choose from late at night.