A Day in the Life of Chaos

I write a lot about life and death.  I love life and contemplate death.  I don't believe in easy solutions.  I don't believe in heaven or hell, beyond that I have no idea. I do believe in death, I do believe in pain.  I suppose there are few who would disagree.  I do believe in the anguished voice of my son when I tell him his father could have died.  I believe in the concern of my wife or in the tormented tears of my father facing a reality that wasn't, but could have been.  I believe in the power of a bullet to fly through the air imperceptibly fast, striking my flesh and sending my life into the chasm of universal question's without living answers. It seems the philosophical side of myself predicates the story I must tell.  There are few times in life when one sees a possible moment of their exit from humanity.  Of course there is the natural moment when the years and our bodies consume us.  Still, there are other moments, disturbing moments that once they hap

There is nothing I despise more then conflict.  Some sick people thrive on it, I detest it.  This doesn't include debate.  I enjoy a spirited, structured exchange of opinions if they are well founded and perhaps may make both people think.  No I am speaking of the conflict that arises between two people over an issue perhaps professional, perhaps not.  I hate it.  It burns in me but I can't keep my mouth shut.  I refuse to be a victim but I hate the repercussions of not being one. Yesterday I was walking out to my car at lunch to drop off a few things and I noticed an older man who works in my office as a contractor doing something strange.  It was only upon closer examination that I discovered he was standing between two open doors on his Ford Explorer changing into a suit.  In my profession this is not odd, often people will do this when we have to go to court.  This avoids wearing a suit all day long.  Anyway, I noticed his door touching my fender.  When he closed it I