Friday, December 12, 2008

I got paid to pick out a christmas tree yesterday and set it up and what not at work.  I didn't know how to distinguish the different types of trees or that you're supposed to cut the bottom inch off. Every time i do stuff like this, or other basic construction tasks, something inside me hurts while my boss and coworkers explain the way to perform each task.  I crave for my father to teach me these things and it feels like there's a wound or there's something missing internally.  
He used to do all kinds of stuff like that with me when I was younger, but then it just kinda faded away as his depression hit him harder.  He's but a wraith, a shadow of the man he once was.  

Seems I'm turning into the same.

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