And walking into the sunset, grabbing the sun, and pushing back

After a life of having so few serious issues, so many great days, so much luck on friends and family and career... then, the last few years, especially the last few months, especially the last few weeks, especially the last few days...  facing the possibility of a drop, into an ocean, into some level of loss of all the things that used to fly me high up over the water.  Yes?

No.  No.  No, not going there, not giving it up, not even a mild concession.  Not letting any of this take me, or pull me down, or slow me down, or be a last chapter.  It is not the last, or the second last, or an end in the farthest sight.  Showing me the bottom and asking me, hey, ready to cave in?  No.  Me, pulling my head up, dropping the smile, giving instead a stare of eyes back to the devil, to the death angel, and saying once again, now, tomorrow, next month, next year - not even close, not now, not ever.  Will fight on and on and on.

After Thanksgiving

The problem isn't lack of gratitude.  It's more like suspicion of New Year's resolutions.  What is there to resolve?  A graceful decline?  The late matinee?  What happened to... a killer band?  Bringing home justice?  Saving a stranger?  I'm thankful for what's home, but not for what I haven't brought home yet, or that it may never be.  Thankful for the future, but not convinced that it will be a new and righteous chapter, epiphany, celebration.  For now, not yet coming back, not yet fading away.