FirstBlog

The days of the past are behind me I look forward to new and brighter days No longer enslaved to the sins of the past On and on I go to faster and brighter days never looking back leaving the past behind What once was is forever gone Good only for educating for growth and wisdom No point in wallowing Over what I cannot control On and on I go to faster and brighter days never looking back leaving the past behind Version 2 Behind me now, muddy And foggy the past. Looking forward now To crispy clear days No longer lost In the fog. What once was is forever gone Good only for educating No point in wallowing Over what I no longer control On and on I go to faster and brighter days never looking back all rights reserved. copyright Justin W. Price, Jan 7th, 2011 View the original Here:

I've been filled with an unfortunate sense of melancholia of late. It's not pervasive and it's not permanent, but still it's there. The reason for this melancholia is my dogs. My wife and I have eschewed having children and have instead opted for dogs. Our furry children fill us with joy and love us unconditionally. They don't give us attitude like bratty teenagers. They aren't going to go to college. They don't mind being left home alone. They're a great addition to our carefree and footloose lifestyle. We love them like we would any child. Unlike most parents, though, we are virtually guaranteed to outlive them. Our dog Baby is a chow mix and she’s 12 and a half years old. Most of the time, she’s happy and full of life, but, somedays, she looks and acts as old as her age would dictate. The idea of losing her is very real and very sad. Our other dog, Bella is a 2 and a half year old labra doodle. Even though she is quite young, sometimes the realiz...

There's a sign on the Sellwood Bridge that reads "Men below please don't throw." While the temptation to throw a man off a bridge may seem strange, after spending some time on this bridge during peak traffic times, one may understand why such a sign had to be erected. I feel bad picking on the Sellwood Bridge because it is one of my favorite bridges. It has a strong feeling of nostalgia and a personality that is uniquely its own and uniquely Portland . I often cross it in order to get from the lower west side to the lower east side, to visit clients and for myriad other reasons. it leads into the very cool and historic Sellwood neighborhood the oldest amusement park west of the Mississippi River , Oaks Park , can be seen at the apex of the bridge. Every time I cross the bridge I am filled with conflicting emotions: awe (at the beautiful view from the bridge), fear (from the perilous nature of the bridge), annoyance (at the bikers, pedestrians and traffic), sadne...

You were there from birth, passed down from father to son, waltzing through my veins. My muse. We embraced, perfectly on pitch, a song, and then I found another and I left you. Still I see you tattooed on my wrists. Thick black lines, a G and an F. Permanent, my former muse, over my veins, under my skin, a perpetual reminder. I stare at you, remembering. Still wanting to create with you. After all, you are in still in my blood, but you’ve left my heart. Empty capillaries flail like strings waiting to be plucked, longing to be played once again, but I’ve forgotten the tune. all rights reserved. Copyright Justin W. Price Jan 3rd, 2012. View the original here: http://pdxkaraokeguy.hubpages.com/_3gvrkbouobv74/hub/Flailing-Empty-Capillaries