the last one was no good

I just wrote a long post about the concept of rough drafts and how many of us keep making half-assed efforts, never to finish the final paper and be done with it, and how that relates to life, but I deleted it.That wasn’t what I really wanted to say. It didn’t feel right.

What I really want to say is that I miss my friends.

I miss my brothers and my sister. And my new sister-in-law. I miss Peter. I miss Jimmy and he just left yesterday. I miss the glory and perfection of our community group beach trip. I miss having nothing to do but just sit and hang out with each other. I feel like everyone is ready to get back to work and to home, but I’m not. I just want to stay wherever all my friends are, all the time.

I’m sick of having to stop things to sleep and eat and work. I’m sick of money and needing money. I’m sick of danger and fear. I’m sick of people cheating on each other and getting divorced. I’m sick of tears and hurt and resentment. I’m sick of fistfights and war. I’m sick of assholes that beat their families and hurt their kids. I’m sick of horrible people like Robert Mugabe and Kim Jong Il and all the miserable pieces of shit that are starving innocent kids in the horn of Africa. I’m sick of knowing that there are hundreds of Chinese and Russian and Ukrainian babies that live and die and never see the outside of a crib.

I’m sick of everything that isn’t perfect, all the time, everywhere.

Sick of it.

That’s what I’m always ranting about, I guess.

I miss my friends, and I want them all to be with me right now, on my porch or around a campfire in the mountains, and I want all of them, including me, to be perfect and great and awesome and have no issues or restraints, and I want every terrible thing that happens in the world everyday to stop and reverse itself and restore everything back to glory and health and joy and perfection, and I want all my friends to have a cold beer or a glass of wine in their hands and I want James Taylor to come sit at the campfire with us and play good music, and everyone will know all the songs, and I’ll put my arm around Adolf Hitler and with tears in his eyes he’ll apologize for everything and I’ll do the same and so will everyone else in the whole world and they will all be my best friends for the rest of our lives, which will never end.

That’s not too much to ask, is it?