My dad is a legend. He’s the one who took me hiking through the Grand Canyon in June. It was the first time I had been hiking in such a long time and I was so scared and excited all at the same time. It was the first time I had ever been in a place I couldn’t remember even if I’d been there before. It was the first time I had ever been anywhere that felt so safe.
I spent my entire childhood growing up in a small town in Oklahoma and I never really knew my dad. He and my mom were very close, but after my mom died they rarely saw each other. I never knew exactly where my dad was when I was growing up, but I knew he was a part of my life. I was a very lucky kid.
I was born in the early 1990s, so I was around 7 or 8 when my parents divorced. I grew up in a very happy home with an incredibly loving and supportive mom, dad, and step-mom. I never really knew what was going on in their lives. To this day I still have no idea where they are. I had a lot of happy memories growing up, but they were ones that I rarely, if ever, discuss with anyone.
I don’t know where my dad is, but I know where he is. He is, however, nowhere to be found. He is a part of my life, but he won’t be a part of my life for a while. While I don’t know where he is, I know exactly where he is now. He is a part of my life, but he won’t be a part of my life for a while.
I’m not sure how I feel about this. I mean, I love the fact that he’s not dead, but I can’t help but feel that I’ll miss him. I think of him when I’m alone, or when I’m with my friends. I think of him as a friend, or a brother, but I would never call him a brother.
I think it is safe to say that even if he was alive, he probably wouldnt have made any friends. His sense of humor, his sense of humor, his sense of humor. I dont know. I mean, I dont know. I think its safe to say that even if he was alive, he probably wouldnt have made any friends. His sense of humor, his sense of humor, his sense of humor. I dont know. I mean, I dont know.
The first time I ever met my father, we were in an art class, and we were both just so full of himself, especially my dad, that we got a lot of shit from the other kids. He was a big talker and a very good speaker. I’ll always remember how he talked about how he was really, really into art, and that he would rather be talking about art than other stuff and other people, and how he was really, really into art.
This is the sort of thing that people don’t think about until they’re confronted with it, but my dad really was. He was into art the way you would expect someone to be. He was the kind of person that would make art his life, and the kind of person who would make his life art. I think it was something that comes naturally to him. My dad was a very curious guy, but he was also really nice to everyone.
I think one of the reasons we don’t see his art is because most people, if given the chance, would just use it to make art. But my dad is the exception. He was really into art. This was a trait that was inherited. My dad was extremely intelligent, and he used to be really, really good at keeping track of what he had and what he didn’t. My dad was also really, really into art.
I’ve always been interested in how my dad’s art influenced the way he thinks. I’ve always thought that my dad’s work was really cool, but I would always think that he might have been influenced by one of his friends, a guy named Jim, who he knew from art school. But I don’t think so. I think as far as my dad was concerned, art was nothing more than decoration.