"Once we were lions..."

I'm sitting in my childhood bed wearing pjs I found in my childhood dresser.
I'm home for Easter and we just held a massive family party at my house with both sides of the family introducing my sister's amazing boyfriend (and love of her life) to the family.

Of course while we're pouring the Canadian Club and toasting shots we get a phone call from my grandmother (Nanni) who had just left the house); my grandad (Nonno) just had a heart attack and was rushed to the ER. Sitting in the Welland General waiting room felt like home. It's weird to admit - but it's true. I've had some decent times at the hospital - always times of limbo... but times indeed. My father and I just had a really deep talk about the irony of tragedy... the irony of life. He was smoking. And the entire time I was just observing the ash building on his cig. He'd tap it out the window... purse the butt in his lips. Suck, exhale and say something profound like "Lola...bella... once we were lions... ain't no more..." Tears welled in my eyes and as tragic as life is... I wouldn't change mine for the world. Our scars make us the unique beings that we are. I openly admit that God is everywhere. I walked around the Falls today and shouted "Geology is God." Maybe it was the homemade wine... that tastes more like poison... but still man... God is a synonym for magic... a synonym for higher life.
I live for higher life.

Again, maybe it's the booze talking... but there is something divine about tragedy. everything is written - pre-written. the Gods are storytellers. I want to be a story teller for life.

xoLO.
This is dedicated to the man Kurt Cobain. If I were any Nirvana song I would be "Heart Shaped Box" - or fuck, anything off In Utero for that matter.
my stomch hurts. too much molisana (eggplant in italian for all you white\Vietnamese folk)