Axes

I retrieved my axes from her house. I found how to write their names (yes they have names) in Russian, and engraved the blades using my Dremel. The black one is "ярость (Rage)", and the silver one "Долг (Duty)". (To hear them pronounced cut and paste on this page.)

It's been so long. 

"Rage" was bought when we lived in Michigan, and the fat meth addict burglarized us. I was so angry, and so frightened, and needed to reclaim some power over my life. He broke in while we were at the doctor for my kidney stones. 

I wanted that bastard to come back so badly. He's serving life in prison, and I have my guitar back, but the damage he did us was permanent.

"Duty" was purchased when we went to my mom's, and I had to clear an impassable ice sheet from her driveway because the landlord refused to.

These tools remind me of my responsibility to my family, and how, sometimes, that family is out of reach, even unsafe to be around.

These tools remind me of my decision to reclaim my shape from the ravaging it took in Michigan, with poor diet, and bad water. 

These tools remind me that, though willing to commit drastic action to affect a change, a drastic action is not always available.

The tools remind me that, though eager to do a job, I may not have the right tools to do it. 

These tools remind me that some people are too toxic to be around, and should be cut from my life.

These tools remind me that someone who is incapable of perceiving truth is incapable of telling truth.

These tools remind me that insanity is infectious, but sanity takes decision and work.

These tools remind me that I am a dad, which is more than a donor of genes.

These tools remind me that, when I entered his life that boy was often a beast, and, by my influence, he is now often human (as far as a 12 year old can be).

These tools remind me that anyone can change anything that goes on in their head if they'll just try.

These tools remind me that failure is a risk of being human, but to not try for fear of failure is cowardice in the extreme.

These tools remind me of the extremes of my nature, and that in the distance between those poles is a whole man, who deserves much more than suffering, and punishment.

These tools remind me that some people are too sick to do right. These tools remind me that I have decided not to be them.