Through my habitual late night wanderings over the years, I have collectively stumbled upon every quality of human life imaginable. From the most wondrous to the most lowly and detestable. The latter and most sobering of thw the two, is also the most important to me at this moment, because as I sit here writing this I am feeling quite privileged.
There are those who have been left qualifying as something just shy of humanity due to either substance abuse, ineptitude, bad evolution or possibly all three …..
Those unpredictable wretches who wish to hurt you for very little and hurt themselves daily for even less….
Those whos ignorance and misfortune work in tandem to perpetuate one another day in and day out….
Those types of despicable fools create a humbling example in my mind, for just as surely as they are all someone’s sons or daughters, they are mothers and fathers. And that’s even more frightening because those kids dont stand a chance.

What I’m getting at is although we can chose whos blood we spill, we cannot chose whos blood we share. My family is odd and we are far from perfect but I was raised with manners, common sense, a good work ethic and respect for those who respect those I love. I could have born just as easily to any of these sad sacks mentioned above. But I was born to two very admirable people who would hurt in order to make sure that I don’t have to, as opposed to those who I see regularly disguarding their own kin in order to pursue thier own selfish, often self-abusive desires.
I was not born into that. In fact, my parents worked hard to protect me from even having to see that and so on days like today, when I think of my encounters with the very bottom of humanity, my gratitude is insurmountable.

I don’t remember the last time my arms have been properly at my side. There’s too much to pick at. Too much to fix. Too many raised surfaces and burn marks. You show me a man who won’t pick at his scabs and I will show you a lunatic. The ability to sit and let things things be and not move a muscle must be the most evil thing in the entire world. I don’t think I can imagine a life without the insufferable right to damage everything around me.

One can only begin to comprehend the instinctual desire to pick things apart. To alter what’s doing just fine by itself. To pick my face and hands til they bleed. To peel wrappers off candy and cigarettes. Wax and glue. You must admit to the inherent need to destroy and change our surroundings no matter where your spiritual beliefs lie. No matter how lovely,  Everything on earth must crumble and be picked apart piece-by-piece to make room for everything else. I’d like to find the most beautiful thing in the world and leave teeth marks. I’d like to sit at my father’s grave and tell him what I’ve done. I’d like to tell you I’m sorry and not mean a single word.   
The same way my pant legs and shoe laces gather seeds to fall off and grow elsewhere…
The same way the wind rips branches and roofs with no relent….
The same way the Earth opens up and swallows us whole. ….

Everything is picked apart, used, damaged and trampled into dirt to grow something better and the cycle goes on…