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To be or not to be there are so many questions..

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Christopher (left) and Nico on Halloween Saturday bowling party. 


November 11, 2015
Inwardly, I struggle to be happy. Outwardly, I exude happiness. Why can't I just decide where my happy medium lies? I can't pinpoint that decision because I don't always feel unhappy inside. And trust me, I have nothing to be sad about. Time moves on, and I have learned that I cannot stand around and assume that happiness will know. I'm waiting for happiness to notice me while standing on the sidelines of life. So, I chose to get in the game and make myself happy by indulging in the things that satisfied me before my time eventually ran out. Losing any more time that I lost during my first few years of being a widower would be regretful.


Good caffeinated coffee can make me happy during my time there. The beverage will spill out of me in words, as you will find out when I talk your ear off about anything and everything that will bring laughter to your face and sustenance for your appetite for good conversation.

Working out at the gym brought my endorphins out and coursed through my body, which always made me feel good. But I don't go to the gym as often as I used to. I'm talking about the gym rat years when I went during my peak years 5 days a week and 2 to 3-hour sessions. My six and seven-year-old sons' rigorous activities bring me enough energy to have my endorphins running wild. I miss my personal relationship with the gym; it's just that the gym and I are at odds with my energy and time spent playing and caring for my kids. I would much rather sit down when my kids are worn out than lie on a bench press and push up 300 pounds.

Writing has brought me some kind of happiness. I have accumulated hours and hours of blogs about my life that will surely make people happy, sad, cringe, miserable, satisfied, appalled, judgmental, hell, name it. In my blog, you'll find the adjective that suits your mood or your feelings about me. But all this constant writing gets tiring, too. Thinking of things to write and putting it on paper for someone to read and hope they find some kind of satisfaction from how I'm feeling can be very draining. This begs the question: is it time to move on from the blog?

My blog started from a simple person, well, not simple, a very famous person, encouraging me to write about my losses and allow others to know that they aren't alone in their struggles of loss and disappointments of life. But now I have evolved from the widowed father and grieving dad of 2 daughters to a somewhat adjusted reality-of-life kind of guy who has a great blog and a large platform to write to the world about my many new adventures and a new tagline, haha?

I have met many great people here and heard many stories of personal strife. So, deciding to continue writing with the blog creates more indecision and clarity on why I should keep writing. After all, writers always write as they say.

But could I even walk away from what I built here and accomplished at Captain Imperfecto? I have a website, I have written a book out looking for a home, and tens of thousands of people have subscribed to my blog and Facebook Fan page and have read more than 300,000 pages of my blog. These people span from all around the world. Some would surely become sad to see it end, right? But do I have an obligation to them?

All good things come to an end. I know this more than a lot of people. I have had an incredible journey that keeps improving, and people would still love to read about those adventures. I have a few influential contacts out there that I have yet to reach out to out of fear of alienating them and the competition with myself that I can succeed on my own. Besides, I never wrote about these misfortunes for personal gain because it didn't feel right. They could help me take the next step to keep this material fresh.

Ultimately, I will engage with my readers about my life and expand to YouTube. I continue to sip my coffee with a smile, chase my boys instead of going to the gym, and allow others inside, who may not have anyone else, to rely on me as they had relied on my writing.


Deep thoughts of decisions or indecisions with this world I have created.

"To be or not to be, that is the question."

776 words



Captain Imperfecto and his boys.

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