My father the f*** up he is he got himself in the crazy house through some bogus mumbo jumbo whatever. My father would have been out of this place by now. But he f***s up… he makes his stay longer… permanent, simply through drinking rubbing alcohol… he could have killed himself. He put me through so much worry. This was a couple years ago but I recently have been thinking alot about it. It’s been bringing deep seated emotions buried away… emotions I thought I had dealt with. I could have been hanging with him right now doing the things we used to do. Build model Rockets, fishing, camping, he even talked to me about giving hunting a try. I’m not the kind of person who hunts animals for the heck of it. But the times I got to spend with my dad like that. Those were happy times. I know this k,ind of stuff was a long time ago and in the past… but i still think about it. I know I sound like a whiner right now… but I needed some place to write this down.