Dear Reader: This article is not meant to be a universal statement of "the difference between men and women," or anything like that. This is not a global proclamation regarding the problems in all marriages. I offer it simply as food for thought. It is up to you, the reader, to determine where, if anywhere, its applicability lies within the context of your marriage. That being said, I would like to challenge wives with this: IF you are married to Mike or Rob, then are you Doris, or are you Susan?

Narcissism: self-centeredness arising from failure to distinguish the self from external objects…

Codependency: a type of dysfunctional helping relationship where one person supports or enables another person's addiction, poor mental health, immaturity, irresponsibility, or under-achievement.

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Blake and Roger had decided on Chinese for lunch. 

One man said it like this:

"Every day, I have this choice to make. Every single day, and it doesn't ever go away. Every day, I must choose to view my life and my accomplishments either one of two ways:

What is love?

The poets have never stopped contemplating it. Song writers write, singers sing, actors act… they write about love, they sing about love, they portray love as best they can.  But mankind still cannot understand its depths.

Philosophers habitually avoid the subject, preferring topics such as good versus evil, morality, existentialism, and politics.  They methodically dissect society and man, cutting both into bite-sized pieces for analysis, then reconstructing them in an attempt to achieve some level of cohesiveness in their design or description.

The stinging chill of the night air cut through my alpaca wind breaker like a Frenchman on a mo-ped in rush hour traffic as I reached for another fag. The distant, muted cacophony of the surf beyond the jetty, the pungent fragrance of the tailings of yesterday's catch, and the oddly diffuse brilliance of a full moon peering down through a meandering marine layer all conspired to set the mood—a doleful, introspective kind of mood.

What's Wrong With Me?

There I was. Standing at the reception desk at the doctor's office, I was locked up. Stumped. I couldn't answer her simple question.

What is it about indecisiveness that I hate so much?

It's not that it uses up time (though the older I get, the less patience I have). No, I think it's because of the complications it adds to life.  There are two basic types of indecision that drive me crazy, and they both center around stuff that just doesn't matter that much. The two scenarios can be exemplified as follows:

• Where should I park?
• Where and when should we meet for dinner?

Where Should I Park?

It was never a question, for myself, whether I would one day
     be what, and whom, I wanted to be.
The fact had always stood,
     with opportunities in abundance.
But there that day the questions seemed to proliferate.
What next to do that I hadn't already tried?
—or that wasn't so similar as to quench 
     any hope of satisfaction in my quest.
And, "Quest for exactly what?" I could no longer answer.
Had I ever known? Or was I now just tired of the empty humor.
With no one else in the room to fill the silence

Life and Death:

Essentially different;
Opposites;
Mutually exclusive, yet

Inseparable.

You can't have life without death, for all must die.
You can't have death without life, for,
Death of whom but he who had lived?

so…

Is life just the path to death?
—a means to an end;
—ceaseless striving that leads us to the peace of the grave?

Shall we not then welcome death as
the only solution to life's dilemmas?

Thus the mind may reason, but my spirit says, "No!"