Chapter 16

And so it was, whenever the spirit from God was upon Saul, that David would take a harp and play it with his hand. Then Saul would become refreshed and well, and the distressing spirit would depart from him.

You know the thing I feel the most about about Dave’s new album? Jealousy.

Listening to him rap his feelings out makes me miss honest writing.

Pen to paper, feelings on ink. Or ASCII characters :)

What if my writing isn’t about me?

Every time my dad calls, I wonder if that’s the call.

We’ve become closer over the years. But a pain-ridden type of closenesss where each person is careful not to touch the other’s wounds.

I think his wounds are self-inflicted though, but wounds nonetheleess.

Years of hoping that maybe we fix this thing.

And now we’ve all just accepted what it is.

I am the man of the family.

I’ve been the man of the family since I was what?

Holding my responsibilities at arms length.

I remember when I told Timi’s mum I wasn’t getting married and she said was sad for my mum.

And I didn’t get it. Why does everyone not care about what I want?

Why do they think they know best for me?

You know, it was always me and my mum.

And now I’ve been around. I’ve made a lot of friends. I’ve bonded with people over shared understanding and shared pain. I’ve found comfort in strangers.

But these days it feels like it’s back to just us.

Me. And my mum. My dad. And then my siblings.

Growing up without safety has interesting side effects.

Like, becoming an expert at creating worlds.

Companies, teams, products, experiences.

An expert at creating the fiction of order.

I’m in a unfortunate place where I need impulsiveness to publish.

And the immediate gratification of completion.

But I also feel the responsibility of care.

I want to do it well. I want to balance my opinions.

Sigh.

I think this was a good first shot anyway.

Thanks Dave.

And you too, Kano.