Aging
The Iran War
The peacefulness of an empty beach
What the hell is going on in the Middle East
The roses blooming in our backyard
My recent stroke and all the rehab and medical appointments I must attend
The number of people, including my wife, children, siblings, and relatives, who have supported me through this traumatic time of mass shootings
The religious leaders who are finally calling out the insanity.
Donald Trump is nuts
The sanity of the people who oppose him and will fight him to the death
The MAGA mania of the dumbest Americans who believe this is the high point in our history
My granddaughter’s smile 
The 2026 election
My friends
The world seems to be going to shit
The nations calling America out
Violent videos on my Social Media feed
Some of us still believe we are our own best friends.
The lack of empathy
The small victories of kindness and sympathy
Creeping fascism
I care about all of you.
It’s always about power.
I don’t own a gun and refuse to buy one.
Don’t shoot. Do I need to buy a gun?
Aren’t we really better than this?

The world is coming to an end.

Do you ever have so much stuff rolling around in your head that it begins to pulse with throbbing rhythms? 

A million other things, besides all the things I’ve already listed, rattle around in my head all day and a lot at night. 

I wake myself up in the middle of a bad dream, having a conversation with someone while in that middle state between consciousness and sleep. 

I can hear myself talking, but I can’t quite understand the words, so I can remember what happened when I wake up at 5 o'clock for the day ahead of me. 

Weird.

There are so many stories to tell, but I don’t quite see the words yet. Only symbols, scribblings across my brain, smoke signals in my eyes, sounds like gibberish, hazy visions, distant memories, all trying their best to dig themselves out of that bottomless pit somewhere at the bottom of my brain.

The running joke in my family is something my brother Joey once said, and I’m paraphrasing here: “I have an opinion, and I’m going to express it.”

It was a statement made in response to someone telling him to keep his opinion to himself, or at least that’s how I remember it. I often feel that way. 

I have an opinion about everything, but in my case, no one is trying to shut me down. My problem is always finding the time. And there’s probably a little hesitation about whether anyone cares what I have to say. 

Not that it would stop me. I don’t give a shit what people think about what I think these days. Not sure at what age I developed that mindset, but I do know it is increasingly becoming my anthem.

Now, don’t get me wrong. 

I want to be sensitive and avoid insulting or offending people. I’m not going to shout the N-word in the middle of Times Square or call someone a name to their face about their appearance, intellectual capacity, or any of a long list of possible insults. 

I might say it under my breath or behind their backs if I’m angry enough, but I’m more about picking winnable battles these days and conserving my energy for more critical wars ahead.

Speaking of wars, do you sometimes feel we’re headed toward a civil war in this country? Or is it just good television that makes me think so? 

Seriously? 

Like Housewives of Beverly Hills or Basketball Wives, or every Karen and Ken video I see these days, where someone can’t seem to control themselves or mind their own business and decides that lashing out at anyone in their field of vision is the appropriate response to their relationship with their neighbor, friend, or any stranger they come across.

We, humanity, seem to be getting on each other’s nerves these days. 

I can’t help but think we’re all having a nervous breakdown. A breakdown in standards of politeness, empathy, sympathy, civility, decorum, tolerance, and live-and-let-live. 

Why is everyone so intent on being the judge, jury, and executioner? Who died to make them the arbiter of truth and justice? 

Seriously?

Back to those semi-conscious conversations I’ve been having at night. I vaguely remember being in the middle of an argument in a dream or nightmare, trying to make a point while they weren’t listening. 

The only way I can get my point across is to shout louder than they’re speaking, and then they raise their voices even higher, and then I raise mine so loud that I kick myself out of that dream and into this twilight state, neither asleep nor quite awake. 

The point is that’s how I’m beginning to feel about walking around and arguing, usually with myself, about what’s happening worldwide. 

This nervous breakdown I mentioned. It’s just not a good way to view the world.

I tell my friend Thomas, who’s the optimist, that I’m the pessimist. That happens when you study the history of humans on this earth (or maybe I’m projecting from my own life). Whatever. The truth is that life is what it is, and you must find your safe passage through it and your peace in it if you want to live a longer life, not locked away in a padded room or a coffin.

Yeah, that’s not what I want to do. I have plans for life beyond 80, which is only two and a half years away, so I’ll keep thinking, pondering, and analyzing the world outside and inside me, writing about it and how I feel about it, and knowing that this is the best therapy for me, even as I wish the entire world would get some therapy.

It’s all cool. In the meantime, I have a speech therapy session to attend.