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Since I've purged a lot of family and fake friends and with the rampant loss of the few true friends that I had, combined with my rudeness, lack of empathy, bad attitude towards everything, not to mention my overall don't give a fuck about anything anymore, except for the maintenance of my firearms, I have no more knives buried in my back and the wounds have pretty much healed up.

And it feels good.

I look back at the past and I think about everything I've done for so many, family, neighbors, employees, clients, friends, and all I asked in return was that they make good use of my good will, I expected nothing back. Reciprocity is something that isn't expected but brings a sense of fulfillment down the road in a manner that makes you feel that you and your good will is not forgotten. Being remembered for what you've done for others, no matter how long ago, brings a moment of appreciation that is getting more rare by the day.

Everybody wants but nobody wants to give back...not even a sincere thank you. But the moment you quit giving is when true character reveals itself. Even when somebody gives you gift, like Christmas, birthdays etc, it's mostly just a formality to "go with the flow".

DEAD FISH GO WITH THE FLOW AND THEY STINK.

I'm going on 67 years old, I've seen a lot and I've done a lot more, mostly though, in all my worldly experiences and social interactions, the most valuable education that I got was from that of human nature and how essential it was in predicting who was friend or foe, and that is a life saver.

No matter what part of the world you're in there are character/behavioral traits that all humans share. The truth is that most humans are phony, self-serving backstabbing, the universal character and behavior trait that makes many people truly equal.

The best gift that I've ever gotten, was from a poor, impoverished Black man in Jamaica, he carried his life possessions on his back, never even had shoes on his feet, but he came to up to me after I had "stood my ground" until my military retinue arrived, and claimed that I was the "WHITE LION OF JUDAH".(a story that I might do a post on one day) and he gave me a small leather pouch that he made, nothing fancy just a small pouch that could be used for change. Still pumped over the situation I was kind of in a "don't bother me nigger" mood but I could tell that the guy was genuine, as they say in Jamaica, "for real mon" and how I knew he was "for real" was when he refused to take the "Andrew Jackson" that I handed him, a few more moments of praise and I never saw him again.

In the 3rd world nothing is free except misery, there's a fee for everything and anything that seems to be given as a gift has a price...poor people give nothing away.

Today when I look at that pouch I get a lot of things going through my head but to me, in my little world, a gift from a man who has nothing is the best gift that one can receive. I never really understood the meaning of "humbled" until that night sitting in my quarters recalling the day's events. Today it strikes me harder as moments of significance seem to refine as time goes on.

In a world of distrust where wants exceed needs it's only reasonable to isolate from the crowd, even family, too many times expectations have lead to disappointments, especially with those you thought were close.

Et tu Brute no more.

And I just did this post with my favorite bear beside me and she's wondering what I'm doing.