Sore. Hungover. Barely able to string much of a coherent thought together, so I guess we’ll see how this goes.

You see, I was at a wedding last night. And I am duty and honor bound to be a good time at these sorts of events. I have a reputation to uphold on the dance floor. Sweating and bandana clad, singing and dancing like a fool- your humble narrator is the most fun, despite what these rambles here might otherwise suggest at times.

And I am feeling the cost of that today. So be it. ‘Twas worth the pain for the pleasure, as I woke this morning in the hotel room, still fully dressed, mouth dry and perspiration crusted. Enough whiskey to kill a horse, but I balance it out with the intense cardiovascular excursion that comes with being a hollering, dancing fool. And running through my phone to check the damage. Like old Kurt, “I have this disease sometimes late at night, involving alcohol and the telephone.” Apologies to those caught in such storms. I mean no harm, even when I might be causing it.

But anyway, a wedding.

An old college friend got hitched. A thoughtful, sweet kid, who would often ask advice of me, as though I gathered enough insight in two more years of living I have over him. But I know I encouraged him to love, as I do with all those dear to me, regardless of my own unrequited status in the area.

And there he was, sharing the day with the love of his life and all us lucky enough to witness the event. Naturally, it warms my heart. While it also simultaneously inspires a reflection of the more somber variety. Seen a lot of folks I care about up on those altars, or the like- yet to see myself in such a position seems more and more abstract with the passage of time. As much as I would like to believe otherwise, it is a certain fact that not everyone gets that sort of thing. The dichotomy of romance, ever eluding and encouraged in difficulty by the shape and circumstance of my life. But as I have done for others, so have others done for me. Stirring the embers of hope enough so they don’t grow lost forever. Someone for everyone, and that line of ideology.

But any which way it gets dissected, yesterday was grand, and a far cry from the sort of emotional circumstance I found myself in not twenty-four hours before. That man was in a rather anxious state. Upset by the many things which seem beyond control. The feeling of powerlessness provoking some slightly spiraling thought patterns. Finding it both difficult to gather meaningful cognition and unable to cease the rapid and occasionally random thoughts enough to acquire what would be deemed a healthy amount of nocturnal rest. All the worst things occurring within the confines of my own skull, regardless of whatever the realities might be, while the ability to process and reason with such soul plundering ideas seems all weak and fruitless.

     But these thoughts must happen.

And I am not as helpless as my more cynical imagination might persuade. A difficult one to break, for sure. Meaning myself. And while not a grand emotional state to have occur, I find that there is a tremendous amount of importance in having them and embracing the wave as it washes over my heart and mind. The blues, as it were. For if not being aware and alert to the downs and declines of existence, I’d reckon all the more exciting and inspiring bits would seem less full. Less sweet. Knowing the sadness and allowing its passage grants the ability to cherish the more divine provocations. Besides, there has been many a tune, story, poem and the like that has gotten willed into existence via such sentient doldrums.

     It is a fine enough thing, me thinks, being alive. And even with all the woes and worries, I think I’ll strive and fight to keep at it for many, many more days. And without succumbing to the hits, I still feel it important to register their occurrence. Far worse, I think, than feeling all destitute and doomed, would be to feel nothing at all. And having dabbled in the numbness, I will confess to you now that it is worth the pain to make certain the ability to feel continues on. Could be something great upon the horizon, even if it is equally as likely that catastrophe looms in the yet to be.

     I could think of the world and her fate, as so often I do. But alas, it is not in my belief that the substance in such stances would be worthy of what I’ve got to give this evening. Even with all the war and suffering and the looming election of the next leader of the free world, void of profound prospect- it is a difficult thing to think beyond myself and my experiences. My desires and memories and anticipation of what might be next. Not for us all, just for yours truly. As much as I try and fight it, there is instinctually in all of us, a selfishness that is inescapable. For how else would our existence perpetuate if not granting our bodily vessels a reasonable amount of need and want, being that desire is certainly among the needs of the species that holds me as a member.

     However, I don’t think I can wring anything much more worthwhile out of sitting at this keyboard. Sometimes these things burn with furious life. Other times, like today, it is just enough to get something out. To accomplish the deed, even minimally. And minimal with what I can manage for this format, for this particular evening.

     I’ll leave you with a line then. Adapted from my father, who likely got it from old salty dog in the profession the he and I both shared, and the men in our blood line have been occupied in for what is now at least a century. It goes like this.

     There is always something you can do to improve your situation. Even if it means rolling over in the gutter to stare up at the stars to breath your last. There is always something, no matter how small, that you can do.