DAVID'S PLACE:

Gambling. One of the nastiest monsters of the world. Feed it and it eats your soul. Starve it and it destroys your mind. To a real compulsive gambler the loss of gambling is good reason for perpetual mourning. Every ounce of desire in your body craves going back to gambling again. The adrenaline, the euphoria, the joy of knowing you will be in action is enough to inspire any gambler to gamble again or relapse no matter how much they have lost. I am not just talking about lost money. I am talking about lost health, family, and friends. About losing everything that matters. I gambled for over 50 years and lost it all. In the last nine years I have quit gambling and slowly rebuilt my life. Yet, I continue to long for my greatest friend and unconditional lover. Gambling. But I am no longer owned by that urge. I own it. But, I only own it one day at a time. So I stay on guard and keep working with other compulsive gamblers continually or I know I am doomed. Each day, I commit to not gamblin...

Updated September 17, 2023 The adrenaline, the euphoria, the joy of knowing you will be in action is enough to inspire any gambler to gamble again and again  no matter how much they have lost. I am not just talking about lost money. I am talking about lost health, family, and friends. About losing everything that matters. I gambled for over 60 years and lost it all. In the last 14 years I have quit gambling and slowly rebuilt my life. Yet, I continue to long for my greatest friend and unconditional lover.  Gambling. Now, I am no longer owned by that urge. I own it. But, I only own it only day at a time. So, I stay on guard and keep working with other compulsive gamblers continually or I know I am doomed. Each day I commit to not gambling that day and to get to the next day without making a bet. Compulsive gambling is an incurable, lifelong disease.That is the bad news. The good  news is the condition can be arrested. You can stop. It's not easy but it's much better...

I have written a lot for a long time in my seventy one one plus years of existence. I have started novels, short stories, essays, autobiographies, screenplays. You name it. I have ground out a lot of words. Unfortunately, all my words have gone in the junk heap. I do not know that I have ever written anything good. I really don't know yet if I can really write. My stuff has never being published other than on my pathetic blog. I once owned a small business newspaper for which I wrote a weekly publishers opinion column, usually in the middle of the night some forty years ago. Now, I am seventy one, divorced, with a big, loving family that is in great shape.  Fortunately, I have been very lucky so that in my twilight years I have ended up with almost no responsibilities other than walking my girlfriends little dog. He is a five year old American Eski. I've fallen madly in love with him in the year he has been living with us in beautiful southern Florida. I never knew I could be s...

Being born was the first mistake. Somewheres around 1947 daddy had sex with mommy maybe for the last time. Even though she was 47 years old it did not matter. She got pregnant anyway.with me.  That was 70 years ago and life has been a disaster ever since I crawled out of the womb. Dad died suddenly when I was twelve years old and mom already had two grown sons ages twenty four and twenty five. They had moved out of the house and gotten married. Dad had made lots of money by being very smart in real estate investments and in several retail businesses he owned. He left plenty of money for mom and so she would  never have to work or worry about surviving. My two older brothers, my mom, and myself were all left percentages of his estate, my mom and I splitting a third and the brothers each getting a third. My assets went into a trust fund frozen until I was 21. My age to get the trust assets should have been 62 and I would not be broke now. The successful family businesses dad...