Pack...

I'm not quite sure where this one's going but I'm sure that we'll get there. Pah! Come on! You should be used to this by now. I'm often not sure of where I'm coming from or going to, but we make it work somehow. Now, I feel compelled to tell you what it is I mean by making it work somehow. Life is a tricky messy thing, but it all works out in the end. There'll be a conclusion. There's always a conclusion. Even if the conclusion isn't what you hoped it might be, take some comfort in the fact that things do in fact conclude, always.

Back when I was love struck with love lost, I started writing something...

Every now and then we get with people that aren't the forever people. That means that you won't be together forever and ever, and that one day, your feelings of profound selfless love will turn into feelings of I love you but I'd sooner see you headless. Yes! Such is life. Nothing lasts forever. The loving somborri of today is the emotional terrorist of tomorrow, and the emotional terrorist of tomorrow is the, I swear it was the devil that possessed me to consider of next tomorrow. Like I said before, such is life. Shit happens. Everything ends, and nothing is good in the world. Yes I'm bitter. No, I don't care. Anyway, because my heart has been the victim of much sufferhead and torture...

Naturally I didn't finish it. Why on earth would I want to finish a thing like that? It's vaguely amusing but, I think I'm done with that. There are so any tales I could tell of

Thank heaven! I couldn't bear it. So I cast it aside like a burnt out cigarette and returned to business as usual. But, lately I've been thinking about the forever people and who they might be and that's when pack came up. The forever people are pack: your ride or dies, your ever dependables, the people that show up for you when all's said and done and the people that you show up for too. They're the people that don't understand you and are somehow fine with it. We're people. We're not always supposed to be understood you know? So now, more so than ever, I'm focusing on the way of the pack.

It is pack to run off on your own for a while on some adventure or the other. Pack won't judge, they'll let you go.

It is pack to not always be pack. Packs are living breathing coteries. You may leave one and find another, but you'll always remember that for a time you were brothers in battle.

Pack remembers the best of pack. Always. And even if there are hard times, pack remembers how those hard times led to something better.

Pack bleeds for pack.

Happy Days,
Afam

In other news, I'm contemplating writing less about me. Or writing about me as I did 3 years ago. All of the good, none of the bad. Life affirming, never wallowing.