I shouldn’t have to say this by now but,
listen to tunes and take a deep breath.
Everything is going to be.
There’s not a god damn thing you can do about the end.
***
Christmas came and went and I didn’t see my oldest son until the morning after.
(editors note: the best things in life are worth waiting for)
I have him now and we’re home and I love him so much.
So many other men and children wont be so lucky.
***
In Moby Dick you learn about a concept called a monkey rope. When a whaler needs to work inside the whale they’ve killed to retrieve the oil they’re sailing for, a second sailor will tie a rope around himself as well as the diving sailor. This ensures that they will both live or die (unless the rope is cut by one party or the other). Skin in the game.
***
I was hoping to write something meaningful or useful, I gave myself a deadline of midnight two nights ago. I have not the words, so I leave it to somebody more qualified.
Be it said, that in this vocation of whaling, sinecures are unknown; dignity and danger go hand in hand; till you get to be Captain, the higher you rise the harder you toil. So with poor Queequeg, who, as harpooneer, must not only face all the rage of the living whale, but—as we have elsewhere seen—mount his dead back in a rolling sea; and finally descend into the gloom of the hold, and bitterly sweating all day in that subterraneous confinement, resolutely manhandle the clumsiest casks and see to their stowage. To be short, among whalemen, the harpooneers are the holders, so called.
Someday there will be more to say,
and things will be okay.
Today I have to continue on,
Cuz tomorrow will have come and gone.