To all those I shared the bitchin' and moanin' days with.
To all the late night drinking sessions I had never dare to drink (which is, all the time).
To all the moments I became a jukebox player.
To all the days of mischief; when the fire alarm went and we have to escape at the back exit of Waltermart, and I couldn't jump at the wall.
To all the humiliation, plan and unplanned.
To all those who left me to cope on my own.
To all those whom I walk the line with between insanity and sanity.
And to the distance that separates us for better or for worst.
Life is too short not to