Just stepped out on the porch to have a smoke. And I'm standing there thinking and realize what tomorrow is. Today, whatever. Friday, August 29th. Next Friday will be September 5th. That day's never great for me, but it just happened to hit me while I was standing on the porch. Staring into the darkness, a lone tear started to form in my right eye. Then in my left. Before I knew it, more began flowing.

    Now, I'm not a cryer, folks. A tear from me is quite a feat...but every time I think about dad, it's all that happens. September 5, 2004. In one week, it will be four years, and although I know that each day passes, and I look at the date and see each month and year gradually flying by, it never feels any different. I thought that as time went on, it would get easier, but every day hits me like a ton of bricks. Good days and bad days, good days and bad days, it's supposed to keep in that constant rotation...but as is my standard, I break away from the norm. I do what I can to make every day a good day, but each day passes, and especially on the days that I talk to mom, it makes me realize that I can't talk to dad, which in turn breaks me down.

    I don't ask for sympathy, nor do I ask for compassion. That's just not me. I've lived so much of my life with people offering one or the other, but never offering any help for what issue I was facing, save for my family, so for me, sympathy and compassion are just kind words that are nice to hear, but never really do much to take the pain away.

    I don't know where I'm going with this. I guess I just wanted to say something about how much I miss dad. For so long, I took my parents for granted, but especially dad, due to the fact that I was so close to him.

    And so, on September 5th, probably around 6AM, which is my norm for this, I will be going to the cemetery. Whether it's in jeans and a t-shirt, shirt and a tie, I don't know. But I will be there. Just thought I would post this.

This may help you get to know a little bit more about me. A bit of an explanation as to why I am who I am.

Although I am only 18, I am a recovering alcoholic and drug addict, as well as the son of a recovering alcoholic and drug addict.

When I was 11, I first began my drug use by smoking marijuana with some older friends. For me, it was truly a gateway drug. After a short time, I felt that I was not getting the "high" I was looking for out of marijuana, so I began doing it with additives such as cocaine and heroin. Eventually, I began doing the additives by themselves and found myself not only addicted to marijuana, but cocaine and prescription pills, as well. By age 12, I began binge drinking habitually.

I'm sure that it seems odd that I was not found out for my use of drugs and alcohol, but my father was constantly in the hospital due to heart and kidney problems, and my mother was, herself, an alcoholic and a drug addict, specifically crack cocaine addict, at the time. I continued on this path until February 2, 2004.

At this point, my father was severely ill, showing no signs of recovery (he would go on to pass away on September 5, 2004), and my mother was at the height of her addiction. My parents had been divorced since 1998 and would alternate weeks of custody (with mom one week, dad the next, mom the next, etc.). Although my father was in the hospital for his final time at this point (his last stay lasted for several months, ending with his death), I was still staying with my step-mother and visiting my father in the hospital during the weeks that he had custody. During the week, I would stop off at my mother's house to pick up things I may have left behind (clothes, cd's, etc.), and it would be very obvious that she was in the height of her addiction. I would go to her house and the power and water would be off, because she would spend all her money on crack cocaine. At this time, her diet consisted of saltine crackers with jelly, and water. I recognized at this time exactly what drug addiction could do, and decided that I must quit before I became that, and more importantly, I must quit for my mother's sake.

Near the end of January 2004, I received a phone call from my mother. The caller ID showed that it was from a pay phone. I looked up the number on the internet and found its location to be near what the addicts I knew referred to as "crack town". She tried to convince me that she was at home, but the location of the phone call, as well as my mother's slurred voice on the other line, could not convince me. I told her that I would see her, but I would not stay with her for her visitation until she had 6 months clean and sober. I refused to be a hypocrite on the matter, and so, on February 2, 2004, I ceased my drug and alcohol use.

My mother would quit her drug and alcohol use shortly thereafter and regularly attended Alcoholics Anonymous meetings, as well as (for a short time) Narcotics Anonymous meetings, which I went to with her on several occasions. She remains clean and sober to this day, as do I.

Politics. They remain the one item in my life that I am truly apathetic about, and have no qualms about being so.

At one point, I was quite involved with them. I would read political books, write political songs, listen to political music. In the part of the country that I live in, it's practically inevitable to have to be standing at the ready to have a political conversation at any given time. This is the place where Toby Keith is almost as recognizable at Jesus Christ. After all, the south is generally considered "red" as opposed to "blue", and that is where my confustion comes in to play. The overall belief structure of the American has become directly linked to which "color" they represent, as opposed to where they genuinely stand. Democrats. Republicans. Libertarians. All such classifications do nothing more than add even more barriers to the already incredibly excessive amounts of barriers we have in this nation.

There is one phrase that many of us say, "that which does not kill us makes us stronger"; but I have always felt that this phrase is far too vague. Certainly, in certain cases, this phrase can be true. After all, if a person has a metal plate put in their head, it will certainly hurt less if they are in a bar fight and someone head-butts them. On another hand, and I speak from personal experience in this case, if someone has someone very close to them pass away (my father, in my case), it truly can help them know how to handle the situation when it occurs again. Breaking apart as a country into sects does not kill us, but by no means makes us stronger.

There's something that Dr. Hunter S. Thompson said, which I would like to share with you, my reader; "There are times, however, and this is one of them, when even being right feels wrong. What do you say, for instance, about a generation that has been taught that rain is poison and sex is death?"

I feel it truly represents how this nation, or rather the shaky grounds known as a "political belief structure" that this nation stands on, truly are. We have gotten to a point where the ideas of "right" and "wrong", "good" and "bad", "pleasure" and "pain" are entirely mixed up. The time has long since been here for someone to stand up and lead us back to a place where we can find our own again, but yet again this is where an issue arises. I do not believe that, at least in my own lifetime, a candidate who can truly take this country to the places it longs to go will ever make it far enough to be able to do it. You might ask why I am so pessimistic about that, to which I will reply that it is not pessimism in my view. The candidate I speak of is someone who genuinely wants what is best for the nation that he or she calls home. Someone who speaks only their own personal beliefs in the hope that their ideas will be agreed upon enough, not someone who meets with a council to decide what stance they should take on particular issues. Someone uncorrupted by corporate greed and money waived in their face. A person who, with a righteous indignation, stands up and declares with every ounce of their being that this is our nation and it is time we took it back.