I don’t write for “likes” because I rarely get those. I’m not any kind of influencer, I’m not a particularly talented writer, and it shows. If I get six views in a week, I’m surprised.

I’m grateful for any and all views from all visitors. No comments or likes are necessary. I just appreciate the chance to write, the freedom to do it, and everyone who takes time out of their day to pay a visit. It is more than I deserve.

In this new year, I want to look back at some things I’ve written here. They’re important to me. Some have been removed by me for the general reason that I was unhappy with them. What remains is my true story. It is difficult reading, I know; I’ve left a few fictional stories to break up the misery. I’m not a good fiction writer, so I apologize.

We are all taking a journey on this blue marble. Some of us have the devil to pay, while others seem to cruise with ease through the years, and we take that hard. It isn’t fair, right?

Life isn’t fair. You have to do the best you can.

There are money problems. Job hunting. Nobody will give you a fair chance. Now, a potential employer can see everywhere you’ve been, every job you’ve ever worked, your criminal record, your driving record, credit history, marriages, divorces, college information, high school transcripts, relatives, news articles, and more. If they see anything that they don’t like, they not only won’t hire you, but they’ll send emails to other companies who have the kind of work you’re looking for.

Electronic devices spy on you every minute of every day. Even with your TV off, the hidden cameras and microphone watch and listen. One camera is even infrared. In other words, don’t do anything in the dark that you wouldn’t do in the light.

Your phone tracks you. Your camera is accessible. Your microphone, too. If you believe that recordings taken from devices aren’t used against you, then you need a good slap in the face: a wake-up.

Kids die by guns and drugs. Nobody is doing anything about it. People ignore vaccination even for their children. Yes, kids die that way, too. But all over the world, people look at my country and shake their heads in bewilderment. Such a “great” country, full of fools. How can that be?

When I was in 7th grade, I had a class in geography, and I loved it more than drawing and painting, which was a passion for me. I used to be good, but now I can barely write legibly. Ain’t life a motherfucker?

I was fascinated with geography. Our teacher had been to Moscow in the U.S.S.R. and said that it was beautiful. This teacher was a hero as far as I was concerned; he knew his stuff and had a love for many cultures. Sometimes, he would talk about legends and folklore in various places. It’s very interesting and cool.

While some foods have revolted me, I found, especially as I got older, that people generally interested me. For example, I know little about Russians, and I hate the government there, but I can’t hate the people. I know, I have tried to. Same thing with China. What a culture. What amazing people.

It seems to me that all Asian people can be very generous. They have tradions of giving small gifts to business associates. I once received a brass candy dish from a customer who was Korean. It was touching. What one culture sees as a part of business can be heartwarming to someone from another.

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While I do not generally care about “likes,” I do look at the countries where occasional readers are, and I find that gratifying. It’s an honor to see that someone in the Philippines, or Thailand, Saudi Arabia, China, Russia, the U.K., Germany, Finland, Brazil, Canada, Venezuela, or other countries have paid me a visit. It’s humbling. As I said, it is an honor.

I recently started reading about Brazil. The Amazon River and forest are in serious danger. The people who live off the land or the water are very much affected. They’re in trouble, existential trouble. It’s heartbreaking.

I found someone whose writing I find fascinating, and she lives in Croatia. That’s a place I knew little about except for the war. Just a quick trip to Wikipedia made my eyes open wide. It’s beautiful. It has quite the history; beautiful old historic buildings, and there’s so much to do! I wish I could travel. There’s a world out there that I want, too late, to see. Places that I will not see because it’s just too late for me. I’ve been so blind.

Learning is still fun for me. I’m not proud, either: I admit to being wrong about many things. I will die alone, as is just. I don’t mind; I’ve known that since my ex-wife decided that she hated me. So many things weren’t my fault, but I had to pay anyway. That’s how unfair life really is.

I don’t tell you this to depress you. It’s rather the opposite: I want you to learn before it’s too late to see the world and its people as they are. Just people like us. They’re often wounded. Often weary; always hiding their pain and fatigue as best they can and reaching the weekend to rest, see friends and family, going fishing and hiking, to seeing a movie and having dinner with friends or romantic partners.

Don’t be me. Go forth and see what I’ll miss. Taste new foods, visit distant places, and see everything that you can while you still can. Visit a centuries-old cathedral. Say a prayer and put in a good word for me if you think about it.

I wish I could see Brazil. Germany. Denmark and Sweden. England. Ireland, Scotland, Wales, Croatia, Italy, Greece, and lots of other places. Visit them for me.

I sometimes wonder who you are. Where you live, how you’re doing, and what kind of work you do. What your favorite music, food, or what you do for a hobby.

We have more in common than we ever allow ourselves to imagine. When you visit me here, you may hate my writing, and that’s okay. But I’ll bet that if we were to meet, we would surely find common ground.

On this site, I have written a great deal about loss. About grief. About mental illness. It’s really tough stuff, so I’ll never get the views I once hoped for. That’s fine; I just want to help one person see my anger, my demons, and my illness and take something away that benefits them even in the smallest way.

I’ve also written about the supernatural. All of it is true, though nothing like what you see on television. I’ve lived in more than one haunted house and have nightmares to this day despite twenty years past one being demolished and hauled away in truck dumpsters. If I could figure out how to republish them so that they are not so far down in my archives, I would. Ghosts, demons, and crypqtids? All too real. Although I tend to turn a deaf ear to Bigfoot and UFOs.

I’ve had fun at times. I saw Brooks Robinson, Boog Powell, and the Orioles live at Memorial Stadium. After that was torn down, I saw Cal Ripken, Jr. And a revolving roster play at Camden Yards. I’ve never seen an NFL game in person, but I did see the Maryland Terps once. I’ve fished in the Mighty Chesapeake, met a celebrity or two, and done the most stupid shit you ever heard of. I have memories I variously laugh at or cringe over.

I’ve even survived multiple trips on the New Jersey Turnpike. That seems to me a far greater feat than climbing Mount Everest. I hate the New Jersey Turnpike.

Not one adventure or misadventure can come close to what could have been, though.

I have missed so much of what life has to offer. It’s not entirely my fault. How I wish that I could travel back in time and do something really cool with my life. Don’t end up with that kind of wish. Enjoy life now.

I’ve been that stupid kid who laughed at old people. Now, I’m just old, wanting another chance.

Go ahead now. Go out and kick ass and raise hell. Hold nothing back. Your life is a gift. Live it.

Saw a beautiful woman walking her dog today. She ignored me. The dog kept turning to face me. From 50 yards, a dog knows. They always know. They sense no threat. They want to come and say hello. After the third time, the woman looked to see what her dog kept stopping to look at. I really wanted to pet it, but that’s rare. The owners don’t see me. When she saw me, she waved. I waved back. I found it a bit sad. The time when I could turn a young lady’s head has passed. I’m three quarters home from the start to the end, and I wish I was eighteen again.

As always, thank you for letting me be a small part of your life. Be well.