Paxina: 002	Thank God its Friday
“The last thing you need in your life? Some one else’s problems”                                                                        Life In My Fathers House: All good Indians go out to prove valor. As all good soldiers do. And all good men. To live once in the glory of battle and to become immortal, and live on victorious. I know that it is a small, stupid, feeble lie. But it is ours. And we will do our best. And we will shine. I ride on your memory of me. I ride on your expectations. I am free. And I make you free. And build a path for you to follow, so that while you adventure, your feet may be safe inside my foot-steps. Although I always know that you may and can and will stray of it to your own destiny. At least I showed you the way. But after that… you are on your own, my beautiful girl. Walking in your own clear path. And Free. A funny conversation the other night. About how I do not share the details of my life with you. First: it is difficult to do if you are not there. Second: It is more difficult to do in a place where the volume of the music is at 220 decibels, with 40 other people interrupting because they want to talk with us. Third: As I said to you last night, I did not think that you were that particularly interested. Besides, who cares about anyone else’s past unless they are really interested. In which case they would pick a quiet place and time to ask actual questions and work through a conversation. In order to get wise to the other persons Life. If a person is interested, a person only has to ask. If it was important. And if there was enough time to actually hear. And time is a luxury we do not seem to share, or have, you and I. Like the photographs. Notice I did not say listen – I said: “Hear”. Two different things. Lastly: Perhaps the best time is not at 2:00 am. After the derangement of noise, alcohol and fatigue. So. Here I am with my nose to the grind stone, eyes on the ball, finger on the button, and ear to the ground, my head in the clouds and my back to the wall, my elbows in the grease with my shoulder to the wheel, my ducks in a row, my head on the block, my other finger on the pulse, my feet on the ground, my bum in a sling and my balls in a vice, my hand in the cookie jar, iron in the fire, my other hand in the till, asleep on the job, my finger in the pie, out on a limb throwing caution to the wind… Thank God its Friday?