This book project is lovingly dedicated to God, my parents, my sisters, my children, friends, relatives and all others who are related to me by blood or by soul. To my futile bouts with austerity and my fool hearted commitment to excesses. To the friends who have faithfully seen me through and the ass-holes I’ve endured. To all the god-awful choices I indulged and all the sleepless nights I laid awake fretting over jobs I hated and people I have now long forgotten. To the money I’ve squandered and the opportunities I pissed away and the women I mistakenly loved. To the time I let slip through my tight fisted fingers and all the dark horses I’ve bet on. To the times I should of known better but did it anyways and the times I did know better and still did it anyways. To those long silent stares into the mirror. To the smiles I faked and the monumental energy I invested in pretending. To the secrets I couldn’t keep and the sins I failed to resist. To all the circles I ran myself around, only to end up face to face with myself again. To the fucked up things that have happened to people I love. To the promises I broke and the ones I should’ve never made. To the catastrophic things I imagined and sweated over only to have them never materialized. To my serial hapless dreams I stubbornly clung too, to the truths I’ve compromised and the lies I believed, to the farewells I masterminded and the beginnings I procrastinated away, and lastly but most importantly to the time I dedicated to writing down the words in this book that crossed my otherwise troubled mind.
This book project is lovingly dedicated to God, my parents, my sisters, my children, friends, relatives and all others who are related to me by blood or by soul. To my futile bouts with austerity and my fool hearted commitment to excesses. To the friends who have faithfully seen me through and the ass-holes I’ve endured. To all the god-awful choices I indulged and all the sleepless nights I laid awake fretting over jobs I hated and people I have now long forgotten. To the money I’ve squandered and the opportunities I pissed away and the women I mistakenly loved. To the time I let slip through my tight fisted fingers and all the dark horses I’ve bet on. To the times I should of known better but did it anyways and the times I did know better and still did it anyways. To those long silent stares into the mirror. To the smiles I faked and the monumental energy I invested in pretending. To the secrets I couldn’t keep and the sins I failed to resist. To all the circles I ran myself around, only to end up face to face with myself again. To the fucked up things that have happened to people I love. To the promises I broke and the ones I should’ve never made. To the catastrophic things I imagined and sweated over only to have them never materialized. To my serial hapless dreams I stubbornly clung too, to the truths I’ve compromised and the lies I believed, to the farewells I masterminded and the beginnings I procrastinated away, and lastly but most importantly to the time I dedicated to writing down the words in this book that crossed my otherwise troubled mind.