Nothing about life is perfect. And the minute you think you have the perfect plan set out to follow, you can expect to see the unexpected. There is no magic wand that sets things back into place. No elixir that transforms us into something we’re not already.

I cannot go forward if I don’t acknowledge where I’ve been. My problem is that I tend to focus on the negative of what I’ve survived. For once, I should really work on focusing on the positive of what I’ve already accomplished.

With that said, I’ll admit something. I’ve spent over a decade attempting to gain my father’s validation over anything in my life, to be proud of something that I’ve done rather than just being disappointed that I failed at yet another challenge I couldn’t meet.

On Wednesday, before we left his house, I finally got that validation. And I think he summed up the recent past in a positive way that is true but also something of which I do have to be proud.

He said, "I proud of you. Not many could hold down a part time job and go to school at the same time. But you’ve managed to hold down a full time job, raise a child by yourself, and go to school with quite amazing grades; all at the same time. That’s quite something to be proud of."

I thought I might cry.

I could pat myself on the back. He’s right and the statement true. I have done all that. So why should I allow a single issue that has come up to set me back? Why shouldn’t I see this as an opportunity rather than a problem? Why should I feel guilty that I am focused on a very narrow band of life at the moment to ensure success while dragging my feet in other areas? Why should I feel guilty at all?

I hold to very serious and very personal ideals. I don’t want to let go of them.

• I refuse to believe that the world is an inherently malevolent place.
• I refuse to believe that those who flaunt their eagerness to live an undisciplined and irresponsible life are those who "win in the end."
• I refuse to believe that "kept" men and women are anything more than property by choice (prostitutes by any other name), but I hold that property in the flesh is wrong no matter what belief paradigm you hold or how pretty you wish to wrap it up.
• I refuse to believe that you can do a half-assed job and feel proud of your accomplishments no matter what accolades an employer might give for your ass-kissing. A job half done is a job half done. Period. And rewarding half done is like plugging a hole in a sinking ship with a bubble gum wrapper.
• I refuse to believe that to be uneducated is the "normal" state of any sane individual. SMRT doesn’t make the world go ’round. It just makes living in the world much more tolerable to everyone.

I think that everything is just going to hell in a hand-basket faster than the speed of life.

Life as I planned it seems to have been derailed and yet it seems like there is an architecture of symmetry that rings with a certain perfection that only the universe could provide.

I watch over and over as simple things are made difficult by pride, by arrogance, by fear, by the temptation of sloth; I get called complicated all the time because I refuse—simply—to succumb to such excuses and to hold ownership over my life as it is, disasters and wonders alike.

One of the most amazing things I learned at Faire this year is that everything is better on a stick. Steak on a Stick. Chicken on a Stick. Fried Macaroni and Cheese on a Stick. Sausage on a Stick. Then I figured out why Christianity was so successful for 2000 years. It’s just Salvation on a Stick.

One of the things that I have often preached, taught or otherwise ranted about over the last decade is the enchanted life. I think I have lived it at various times only to get caught back up in the rat race under the illusion that I was somehow supporting a family or saving money for some big adventure. Hogwash. I was afraid of the future. I feared the unknown.

I don’t think that success comes from hard work. Success comes from active work. It doesn’t have to be "hard." That’s merely an antiquated and artificial morality left over from the myth of the Fall in Eden taken to an extreme by Protestant Capitalists to get more work out of fools by preying on their fears of eternal salvation.

I spent part of last night wondering if it was really worth it to work a grind every day just to pay bills over and over again; and then wondering if there was actually a simpler life to be lived without all the mess. That was depressing.

I was just woken up by a loudly dreaming dog to a Backstreet Boys song playing on the laptop that was the same song playing in my own dream of a Victorian wedding … umm … uhh … that’s something I won’t forget anytime soon.

I am going to guess that now is the time when the line between truth and lies is about to become very, very clear. And those who choose the side of lies will have to live with their consequences.

When I rip the skin from around your soul and feed it to the wind, you will wish you’d simply kept your Word.

I think that things are about to get really complicated or really simple and it’s going to happen really fast. The only real question that will remain: how fast does your head spin?

For those who continue to miss even the short bus, this isn’t about control. I have enough of that. It’s about just being tired. Everything in life shouldn’t have to be a fight. But, for me at least, it is. And I’m tired of fighting for the most basic things that others seem to get by hook or crook or stomping all over others like animals while I prefer to be an honest human being.

I’m done. I won’t treat people like that. I won’t stoop to the level of having my most base instinct control how I function. I won’t abandon that which I love for primal satiations. And I won’t allow myself to be self-deceived by those who merely wish to play at life rather than seriously live within the enchanted elements that make it worth living in the first place. The paradox, admittedly, is more than most can understand, but it’s truly worth it once you can grok the enchantment.

But, yes, I’m done. Time isn’t relevant. It’s just a matter of time. And there is plenty of it left. How much of it I will use is debatable. And it very much depends on whether I have to continue fighting for every breath or if by some miracle a rowdy band of travelers suddenly appears to make this journey worthwhile.