From the creators of Prison Break; and a pseudo spin off (i.e: existing in the same world) To me this has to be one of better shows of the last few years.

Breakout kings follows three cons and their handler(s) as they track down escapees. The crew consists of a US Marshel; a genius gambler with mummy issues; a former gang member and a bounty hunter with accusations of multiple murders under her belt.

An episodic series with over arcing story line. Very well written; the cast and characters have the chemistry required to become attached to them. I generally give new shows two episodes to grab me; Breakout Kings took less than one. Well into the second season and I have yet to see an episode i haven’t liked.

Three names drew me to series before I ever watched a single second of it. Jonathan Nolan; J.J Abrams and Michael Emerson. The later two being LOST alumni.

Reece (the brawn) and Finch (the brain) work well together; through uncertainty of each other shows in moments of awkwardness in their personal communications. Im assuming its the way they’re written though.

The Machine spits out social security numbers to our dynamic duo. The number belongs to the Person of Interest for the episode. They don’t know if they’re good or bad; if something will happen to them or they’ll do something to someone else. They just know something will happen; and they have to find out and stop it.

The system used in Person of Interest is loosely based on the Echelon program. Echelon is capable of interception and content inspection of telephone calls, fax, e-mail and other data traffic globally through the interception of communication bearers including satellite transmission, telephone switchboards (which once carried most Internet traffic) and microwave links. Basically Big Brother’s Big Brother.

Mostly episodic; though there is an arcing story which has become prevalent later into the series.

A show which sets forth the premise that Humans co-exist on earth with a species called Wesen. They are dirived from stories originally told by The Brother Grimm. They look like you and I; but their true form is only visible to a Grimm.

Grimm’s are bounty hunters, protectors and mercenaries. The current Grimm has only recently come into his own after the death of his Aunt. He also happens to be a Police Detective.

It’s a struggle for Nick (the Grimm) to keep his normal life and his life as the Grimm separate. No humans know; but it seems almost all Wesen know he is The Grimm]

The show contains an interesting assortment of characters; none of which seem to be the “humans”; to me they only seem to be involved to keep us aware they exist.

The relationship Nick has built with Monroe (played by Silas Weir Mitchell) (a Blutbad; a wolf); first out of conveneance, then out of trust and respect has become more a staple to the show the the partnership with his Human police partner.

Grimm could be seen as a Creature feature; and in its own right it is just that. But there’s more to it then the weekly big bad. I won’t spoil it here though.

It may not seem too much from my description here; but it is certainly one to watch. It’s kept me entertained.

There are more that i would recommend and I will get to them next time.

Knowing full well the water isnt drinkable i lean over the side to collect some; and in my haste knock an item of some importance into the waiting arms of the deep.

With barely a moment to consider any action; i follow the item over the side, and begin pursuit. Said item is moving too fast and too irratitically for me to catch up; it’s caught up in some ocean current. Yet i know exactly where it’s heading; so even though i’ve lost sight, i stay the course and keep swimming. Breathing doesnt appear to be an issue.

The next thing i notice the crystal clear waters have turned to a murky haze; and i feel something brush over my back. I look ahead and see a behemoth of a shark gracefully swimming over head. Usually this would be a frightening sight, but there was nothing but calming vibes coming from the master of the ocean depths. I reach out and take hold of her tail and allow her to lead the way…

The waters become colder and darker as the journey continues on; and a sence of space closing in starts to take me over. Beams of light occasionally illuminate the surroundings and I see the reason for the darkness. We’re deep in a trench; and blocking the light is a shiver of sharks. Yet still no overwhelming sense of fear and dread.

Then I wake up; the item i was searching for remained lost. But somehow it didnt matter. As they say; the journal itself is reward enough.. Oh the stuff of dreams..

Down on this soon to be obliviated planet called Earth; under the yellow sun, Jay lives. No underwear wearing on the outside secret indentity. I am just me.

I have Arthrogroposis Multiplex Congenita; (this would be where you use google). I TRY not to let it stop me though. Sometimes, i dont seem to have a say. Dont judge me by it alone; its what i have, not who i am.

I’m a little creative; and perhaps at times slightly self involved.

I present myself in some wildly imaginative and highly pretentious way in the hope that someone actually takes interest; Or not.

When it comes down to it; in all honesty.. It doesn’t really matter because this Jaybird is also fiercely independent and protective of his often inflated ego that it only occasionally matters what you think.

I’m a bit into books, movies; tv; and pretty much live for music. Marilyn Manson inspired me to believe in myself even when the world disagreed with me. Chuck Palahniuk; Max Barry and Frank Miller gave inspirational writing perspectives. David Lynch proved, atleast to me personally, that no limit should be places upon creativity. If one can imagine it or dream it, theres a way to put it into a format others can experience and appreciate.

Ok so thats a brief look into a few of my influences but other than all this dribble, who am I really?

I have a undying obsession with eventually becoming a ’somebody’; if only to have the thrill of saying I told you so to numerous people…

I’ve never been content with the rules of life. You know the ones; go to school, have the high school sweetheart, play sport, go to uni, become a doctor, get a big house and a car and live happily ever after.

Now, I’m guessing maybe.. maybe less than 5% ever reach that level of domesticated bliss. But I’ve never been one to accept something so preconceived.

Whats left..

Unless you’ve somehow fucked me over or shown some massive dislike towards me; I’m always sincere.. Right down to the atoms floating through my veins.

In that very moment I mean every word i say.

I’m not afraid of lying to get myself out of trouble; though I genuinely believe myself to be generally honest.

I tend to ignore my often right “user detector” and give people more chances that they really deserve..

I tend to crush easily and always end up with a broken heart; it quickly mends and i live to crush again.

I want to say this. That in this world where sincerity seems to have lost its meaning, I miss you.

There, it’s out there and I just wanted you to know that.

Not us. I just miss you.
—-

It’s almost 3 in the morning; I’ve been on the computer all night. Again.
Ask me what the hell do I do on here all night? Go on, ask me.

I’ll reply with “Nothing.”

It always started small; most times over things which needn’t see confrontation. Money matters; the trash not being taken out on time; the air conditioner being set 2 degree’s lower than she liked it. From there it would escalate; she knew better than anyone else did; and knew exactly what buttons to push to get a rise out of me. I’m not without blame; as with most things (good and bad) it takes two to tango. Because the pregnancy has been rough on her; I try to give her some push room.

But tonight. Oh, tonight was a step to far. Try as i might to remember the spark which lit the fuse; it continues to elude me. I turned around to say something as my face was met with a sharp sting of a slap. I stood there; flabbergasted, biting my bottom lip. Fingers twitching as my hand balled up to a fist; was all i could to do to not slap back or worse. I turned away and hit the wall; i must have hit a support beam, because it felt like my hand had shattered. Bridgette ran into the room crying as I grabbed my coat and headed out of the door. I couldn’t be around her right now; No I could be. I just didn’t want to be..

I couldn’t tell you what went through my head that night. Lots of angry thoughts swam through my head; i just wanted to scream. Sure, we argue, who doesn’t; but it had never turned violent before. Ok; it may have been just a slap and i perhaps i was over thinking it all, but that’s something i swore i’d never be a part of. The anger gave way to being upset and thats when the tears started.

I was lost in my own little world as I pulled my shirt up to wipe my eyes. I stepped out to cross the road; tried to adjust me eyes but was blinded by the light of a car I hadn’t noticed. The horn and the screeching of the tires as the tired to grind to a halt; were defining. This is what it’s like to be hit by a car. The impact was quite sudden; the pressure and pain quite excruciating; and then a sense of freedom as you’re being propelled through the air.

That’s the moment that lasted forever. I wish I could say that my life flashed before my eyes; but it didn’t. All i could think was I’d never get to hold my baby. I’d never get to see her smile; or hear her laugh. There was a moment of clarity; where i knew everything would be ok. That was followed by a thud as my limp body landed in a position i never imagined myself being able to get into.

I couldn’t feel anything at that stage. I doubt that I was even conscious. There was nothing; no sound, no light; not even darkness, just nothing.

There comes a time; when you need to realise that sometimes, the things you want most are the things which are slowly killing you. I tried for so long to keep the relationship together. I did love her; and on some level I still do and always will. Not in a way that I want to be with her though; not any more. But in the end I was holding on for the girls.

I couldn’t end it myself; so i’m glad she was able to do it. It hurt; and I suppose it still does a little bit. BUT it was for the best. For myself and for Nat.

That should be the end of it; but it’s not. Nat and I have two beautiful little monsters. Our babies; they are the ones who this will impact the most; they are the ones who are most important to us.

We’ll both move on to new relationships; we’ll both find that happy which we couldn’t give each other. You know what? I’m fine with that.. Happy us means happy kids.

So, I don’t understand why things need to be difficult.

It absolutely kills me that I don’t get to see them every day. But what can I do?

I don’t want to take the girls away from their Mum. They need their mum; but they need me too. I know Nat though; she’s always been person who needs to feel in control. Things are done her way; when she wants it done; how she wants it done or so help you god.

I can’t help but think this mediation process will be made difficult; for the simple fact that she won’t be in control of what happens. What happens needs to be in the best interest of our babies.

I think we need to sit down with her in person or on the phone before hand and talk about it before hand. Just so we know a basic idea of where each of us are. I just want to be more involved with my girls lives.

I lay awake and thoughts of death overtake me; I should say thoughts of being dead overtakes me, it makes me sounda little less morbid.

Thoughts about what happens when you die, I really dont want to go all biblical; but there has to be something else, right? We cant just be a living, breathing conscious and then nothing, it just doesnt make sense.

Thoughts of, will i be remembered? By my children? Sure. By my grandchildren? It’s likely. By my great grandchildren? Now we’re pushing it.

We live on as long as someone remembers us. For many; the memories of us will survive for three generations at most. Unless ofcourse we manage to do something either incredibly great or insanely hideous, and thru the course of our actions touch the lives of millions. Albert Einstein and Adolf Hitler spring mind here. Or we could just get a good publicist like that Jesus guy did; dude’s been dead just shy of 2000 years and people are still talking about him.

First up, I am sorry that i wasn’t able to give you the in utero attention you deserved. Don’t mistake that for a lack of love or excitement. The excitement was certainly there when we first found out you were on your way; and it continues to be present, although I am having trouble showing it. The smile when you arrive will be as wide as it was with your sister.

Mummy and I were having so much trouble deciding on a name for you.. We weren’t able to even decide on a temp name. That is; until your sister started calling you DeeDee. So that was your name. I assume that will be a nick name you’re stuck with with as well. We have finally decided on a name for you; we hope you like it.

Thank you for being gentler on your mother than Violet was. She has been able to enjoy this pregnancy immeasurably more; which I hope allows for a greater bond between you both in the first few weeks.

So many people are waiting to meet you. Not everyone was able to stay here to meet you; despite how much he wanted to. Poppy was very sick; and he tried oh so very hard. I’m sure your sister will be able to regale you with stories about your Poppy.

Look around you DeeDee; it’s a bold new world you’re entering; and your new life will be filled with love. Oh the places you’ll go and the people you’ll meet. Someone will be with you always.

I will make the same promise to you as i did your sister. I can not promise everything you want; but i will promise you everything you will ever need.

See you soon, My Sweet.

Love,
Daddy.

I wasn’t going to put this up here; but i’ve just got done watching the episodes of How I Met Your Mother where Marshall lost his Dad. As fictional as I know it is; I wish I could have had a relationship like that with mine.

It’s hard to know where to start.

For the first few days, everything had been so strange and disorienting. I’ve had an even harder time sleeping than I usually do… Weird dreams keep waking me; more often than not with tears in my eyes. However; despite all the grief, the pain, the sometime seemingly infinite night… the sun keeps coming up.

It can’t stop for me, same as it won’t anyone else either; and every day the same thing continues to happens.

The regret is real. The sadness and heartbreak are real. The sun was real. But also, the love was real.

The hardest part about any of this; isn’t the fact that i’ve lost a father. As hard as that seems at the moment, in my own way i’ll be able to deal with that. I think the hardest part for me; will be that the girls growing on without their poppy.. I’m sure Violet will remember; but #2 never had a chance to know him. When she inevitably asks “what was poppy like?”, I know what I’m going to say.

Have a look at everyone here; the friends and family; everyone who knew Dad.. It’s one giant jigsaw; and when one piece is removed, the outline of where it was is still visible. Everything Dad left behind; it defines his shape. Look around, you can still see and feel him.

Without fail,

Each every morning,

the sun will continue to rise.

And it has done. Some days are fine; other days not so much. Seeing the gears grinding and the world continue to turn, somedays is just… yeah.