I feel so confined right now. There are so many things want to say but, I don’t feel like I can. Father’s Day makes things even harder to keep silent. I never felt that I was the kind of guy who kept silent when the truth needed to be screamed at the top of my lungs, but I just don’t feel the need to drag anyone’s name through the mud.

I suppose my biggest issue right now is deciding when enough is enough. My Dad once said, or was it my Mom, that my father contracted MS because he kept everything inside until it poisoned his soul. With my silence, I feel like I’m shouldering this unbearable burden. This huge fucking sack of bricks that I’m simply not able to put down quite yet.

I don’t know when I’ll be able to.

I don’t know if I ever will be able to.

I have the sneaking suspicion that I never will be able to.

I suppose that some day the shit in my head will be the shit in everyone’s face. That will be a fucking interesting day. Everything has its proper time. Everything has its proper place. The day that those two things align will be an amazing day, with massive fallout.

What are you looking for in your life?

What drives you to get up in the morning?

What do you hope to accomplish everyday?

Can you answer these very basic questions? Can you sit down and think objectively about what would make you happy as a human being? (Provided you’re not happy now, that is….) Can you dedicate yourself to finding out what the hell it is you want from this life?

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So Michael Douglass is in the news about having cancer or something or other. I don’t really care, because I don’t give too much of a shit about Michael Douglass. A mediocre actor with a hot wife doesn’t rank very high on my list of importance. Having said that, it did bring the whole “throat cancer due to HPV infection via oral sex” topic to the forefront of my conversations with my wife. One of my exes had HPV and while both me and my wife had been tested (both of us having an intimate relationship with her) neither of us had it and we just dealt with it based on those findings.

But, then I started thinking about one tweet I saw this morning which basically said “Throat cancer is a small price to pay to eat out Catherine Zeta-Jones’ vagina.” I’m sure this isn’t going to win me any friends or anything, but here goes.

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I’m sitting in a dark room, with only my computer screen to give what light I need. I’m sitting in the dark because I’m a little depressed.

No.

Depression I suppose is the wrong word. More like a lazy annoyance that reminds me that I judged someone SO wrong.

So very, very wrong.

In my previous blog entry, I was a bit angry and said some things, while correct in my opinion, that were unnecessary. I don’t regret saying them, I just know they were unnecessary. I am so very, very bothered about the notion that this woman has that the Sandy Hook shooting was a hoax that was politically motivated to start the discussion about gun control.

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My mind is so full of fuck right now…

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So, yesterday afternoon (5/15/2013), my wife had an endometrial ablation. As a result, our chances of having more children went from “slim” to “well, fuck that”. I have mixed emotions about it, but my wife is really taking this hard. She always imagined herself with a LARGE family. (If memory serves, 4 kids, 2 dogs, a baker’s dozen cats and whatever else.)

I suppose mentally, for me, this all ties into this week’s theme of women’s health issues, and this notion of what is right for one, may not be right for another. My wife is an amazing mother, and personally, I look forward to devoting every spare second of my life to this kid, and really spoiling the absolute shit out of her. But, even though there have been a few people who said things such as, “What right do you have to deprive your daughter of a sibling?” Whores like that can eat a bag of dicks. For the most part, I have friends who get this idea.

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