Johnnie R. Dalton

I’ve been in this life for fifty years, been trying to work out its riddle for forty-two, and been keeping diaries of clues to that riddle for the last thirty-five. Notes about successes and failures, joys and sorrows, things that made me marvel, and things that made me laugh out loud. How to be fair. How to have less stress. How to have fun. How to hurt people less. How to get hurt less. How to be a good man. How to have meaning in life. How to be more me. Recently, I worked up the courage to sit down with those diaries.

Have you ever met someone whose entire life mission was to get under your skin? A high school bully, perhaps? A work colleague that just can't buy a f--king clue? Your shithead next door neighbor who revs his engine at all hours of the night? Now imagine, for a moment, that pain in the ass follows you to your new home on a Caribbean island and continues to poke and poke and poke until you fucking explode. You'd wanna retaliate, right?