I have come to dread most celebrations, for they are usually hunched over in a sidecar attached to, and driven by a much larger and impactful figure, formally known as “Death.” I prefer the nickname of “Tragedy,” for the word death is final and in the end very abrupt, as if it has somewhere else to be of greater or perhaps, new found importance, whereas, tragedy lingers and constantly irritates, in other words, it never has anywhere else to go. Today is harder than before, just as next year will be the worst one yet. I do not make the rules or have control over my emotions. Thankfully, I am being dragged along the road. I can honestly say that without a hint of sarcasm. I had a hand in this, even though I feel that I was manipulated and put up to it, by an impulse that was never going to laugh and slap my back. But tonight there will be dessert and songs, clearly someone else is struggling evermore. For them, I bite my lip and pull, no worries, the scars were already there, the road and the pebbles are staring a million miles away. Can you now see what I mean by the word, “abrupt?” I honestly do not care how you answer, condolences go much better with frosting, and pain knows better than to sit up straight. I do not want to go on a little longer, for, hopefully my turn at the wheel will not be new found or important. That in itself, is a reparation….and definitely worth a slice of cake.