Fourty

Do you Journal ever? she asked.

I do. 

I did. 

I recall doing.  

Though, how exactly I did, I do not.

I pour myself a drink. I put on a film. Another drink. 

I get lost. I'm a little annoyed at how dependent I am on a format. 

This is my last month as a 40-year-old, and next month I will be 41.

I am still in Advertising. I am 6 years married. I am a father of 2. I am in New York City. I am the owner of 2 homes. I am a Creative Director. I am a Board member of my co-op. I am an Asian American. I am a man with a drinking problem. I am a Dreamer. I am working in a basement with Pink Eyes. I am this  ego, this idea. 

I am a dreamer of the American dream. 

I am a constant American hangover. 

I am driver to a car to a cabin, to a life I never knew I could have had.  

I am watching the swans, the geese, the robins, the heron, the sunrise. It's powerful, it's magnificent. 

It's evern better with coffee. am I awake? Am I still asleep? Am I in Byram New Jersey? Is the world ending? Is it on its side lying by a lake?Is this the forrest by the sea? 

I love my boys. 

Their Childhood, a canvas. 

Not mine, not all mine. 

Publish.