It is that time once again. All of the songs that remind you of who’s gone appear without ever appearing. They are part or your synapse so deep where it’s the only place the heart & brain can connect to catalogue only that which is entirely tragic, or entirely joyous.

Did I really survive 20 years of this? Is what’s left of me 20 years later even considered surviving??

Winter has come and with it it’s harrowing tales of history that even the deepest oceans of alcohol could not re-write… We CAN believe what we want. And we can again be reprimanded in the cruelest of fashions by absolute truth.

Donna Carol Presba is still dead. And I’ve never been the same since….