Perpetual Ache

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My sister saw Bruce in Washington and he sang Racing in the Street.

Whenever I think of that song one lyric sticks in my head - Some guys just give up living and start dying little by little, piece by piece.

I've lived my entire life trying not to be like that. I find that so sad. Never, ever thought I'd consider that could ever happen. Yet, life is a cruel bitch, isn't it? And it can happen.

Piece by piece. Little by little.

It's so easy to say that the pieces can be picked up and be re-assembled into something less, but something still significant. I'm certainly trying to do that, but will everyone? Probably not. And that's a 'probably not' that really hurts.

It's easy to try and focus on the love in life - thankfully, I'm surrounded by love -some people certainly aren't. Some people who have love sitting right in front of them, decide to take another route.

In any regard, there is a perpetual ache.

Today, I decided to punish a body that is not use to physical punishment. I moved about seventeen million pounds of stone that was in our rose beds (I hear you, Palmer: 'I told you a million times not to exaggerate'), but I did it intentionally, to see what it brought me.

It brought me a sore back. It brought me a memory a minute. It brought me a realization about what happened to the best friend I will ever have - and it brought it to me in twenty second time lapses. I was sweating, I was panting,and I was remembering.

No one loved Bruce more than my brother - not even me - and he was whispering in my ear - "Don't die little by little, or piece by piece."

Live.

Live.

Live.

Live.

And still...drink in hand...perpetual ache.

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