***I've come into some insight about my life. In regards to the "Father/Son" paradigm, I've always had a distorted concept of self. Growing up, I knew that my Father had gone away when I was but two months old. It wasn't until I was 14 that I was formerly introduced to whom I could only concieve of as the man who injected his semen to create me. According to sources in the know: my father was "Evil incarnate. A twisted demon who used psychological tricks and the power of suggestion to manipulate all around him." So I always thought of him as Evil. It was that literal, that simple... All my life I lived in paralyzing fear that I would one day become like my father. I didn't really bear any ill will towards him, but I was constantly bombarded with the concept of his persona. I didn't see him a day in my life until 14, and very sparingly since then. Yet slowly but surely, I had picked up every single one of his traits. I look like a mirror image of him. In the few times that we've hung out, I've noticed how he does everything I do-From facial expressions to posture and even speaking tone. God truly does have a magnificent sense of humor, and Genetics is a motherf***er... But now I'm a little bit older, and a whole lot wiser. I realize now that I was wrong to fear blossoming into my Father, because I was never destined to turn out exactly like him. My life will be the apology for his life, and yet will still be him in essence. All the nuances and quirks, the distance and aloofness, but with a human touch. My life will be the secret expression of my Father's desires, and it will be his apology for them, and it will be my justification for doing it again in spite of the apology. Wodehouse once wrote that "It is a good rule in life never to apologize. The right sort of people do not want apologies, and the wrong sort take a mean advantage of them..." After all, why should I apologize? I'm just being me...

WHEW!!!! Thank you for indulging me... I just really needed to get that off my chest. 'Til next time... Omnes Vulnerant, Posthuma Necat.