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Jan. 27th, 2010 | 08:49 am
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My father is a broken-down man who was born on February seventh. From that point until this point, his soul was worn down to dirt and gravel; humble, modest, accomplished, destroyed nearly to irreparability. Lines carve deep his features from a life of too many cigarettes and the pain of maturity brought on prematurely. The dirt soul is packed, crumbles, must be handled so delicately, though the skin outside is so calloused and rough. The body is weary, for the burden of every memory within the dirt soul. Years are worth double within that cage, causing exhaust tenfold for each cherished history.
I see my father at the kitchen sink, on the picnic table with a grin, in the river and on the shore; he is immortalized in photographs as a man I'll never know and my mother never cared to. He was, I am told, a fierce personality and a beautiful concept. He was not the boy to bring home to mother, or to start a family with, but I like to think that's why she did it. In my own mind I'll always believe that they were each enamored with the foreign nature of the other's past, but no garden should grow from the soil of such an attachment. There was puppylove; adoration and fascination. There were children. My father was a broken-down man by the time he hit puberty. In an act of defiance, he took on Atlas in a fight to the death and was spared out of pity. The bones, fragile, but the ego impressively more so. A broken back and a dirt soul, but my father is the broken man that I know and have come to love.

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from: smalltowncharm
date: Apr. 17th, 2010 07:00 pm (UTC)

my god, our fathers are so much the same. i know that's always been sort of a comical coencidence between us, but this extent genuinely surprises me. i wonder if it's very common.

i'm sorry it took me so long to read these; i knew it would be worth it to wait until i had time. this is the first one i've read and it's already my favorite.

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rita leifson

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from: 42hourtransit
date: Apr. 17th, 2010 08:15 pm (UTC)

i love that they've never even met each other. maybe we should have a family barbeque sometime in the summer.

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