yadhtrib yppah

it's my dad's birthday today. dad's turning forty-seven.

there were three years when he had forgotten his age. he didn't think about it and when age was brought up, just figured that he was thirty-eight. my dad was thirty-eight for three years.

when he finally checked he was expecting to be forty but, to his surprise, he was thirty-eight. thirty-eight for another year.

when he was in his twenties, he wouldn't wear a watch. he owned his own business but not a watch. he wanted to bring his life to a point where time wasn't a burden. without knowing it, he was being very buddah-ish, trying to transcend time and all.

in related shit, i've been having detachment issues when i think about moving. it's not like i don't want to leave-there are plenty of days when i'd rather beat my head against the nearest wall than live here another year. but there are also those times when the thought of leaving behind all the arguments and diners and marathons of "law and order" is paralyzing. i get lonely for him and lonely for me.

even on a day that i'm greatful to have my father i feel the sting of the inevitable loss of him. i hate being a social animal; it's too fucking isolating. i'd much rather be some impersonal recluse. feelings are too much of a commitment, even on birthdays.