Hiding

Yes, I've been hiding.

I had a change in my circumstances so fundamental, I've just been both languishing and basking in its gloriousness for too long. I'm swimming in its rapture, I'm bathing in its golden light, and I haven't had the strength to kick just to break the surface and breathe in.
And it's been my excuse for a while now.

I'm 33 years old; it means nothing to most of you, some of you or ev en the ones that classify yourselves as "all of us", since really we're not all of the same age all at once. But I had given it up, just plopped on the couch and went, "Eh."

My dad did that and look, there he is staring at Portuguese television waiting to die.
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What does my Dad dream?

As I hear the dragon-esque screams from the aeroplane flying above the home of my two terribly incongruent but tremendously loving parents, lying on my mom's bed as she's recovering in hospital from nose surgery and my father in the next room tucked away in his own slumber, I feel a moment of sheer terror as I begin to imagine these dark and twisted thoughts that would be running through his mind as he lays there…a man haunted by death.
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