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     So. Three years. I guess now's a good a time as any. Well, don't expect any long drawn out stories. Not for now. I'm tired. Not of writing. I still enjoy it. But I think I spend too much energy doing it to make a living. For now, this is a journey. Back to where it ended. And right now, it's where it begins. Daniel died. And nothing's been the same. I've only visited his niche a handful of times. But whether in a drunken fury or a depressed evening, I'd always have something to say on his Facebook Wall. Call me lazy I guess, but I figured it was more poignant as opposed to visiting his niche. I've come to realise that I never did stop writing. I was just doing it differently. And maybe, just maybe, it's time for me to share a little with the rest of you. I'm not completely back yet boys and girls, but given time, I hope to be :)

30 September 2008
14 years brudda, 14 years. Some of them were longer than the others, but we're still here. I've already said what I've needed to say to you in my prayers, and rest assured, there'll be more conversations to come. In the meantime, head on home D, and save me a beer for when I get there too. We'll have all the time in the world then.

And I'll make sure I'll tell my kids one day about how their Uncle Daniel was such a dumb ass. And their father's best friend. I love you man.