I talk to myself all the time, even out in public. I’ve never been “normal” and never will be. I look the way I do because I’ve never gone along with anything that has become popular in the last 50+ years. I definitely prefer to be different than most people. No one has ever fucked with me or my family.
People generally keep their distance, I like it that way.
2 Likes
CORRECT!!!
And I for one am not convinced that the way we are doing it today is working. Elementary school teachers are taugh not to tell kids they have wrong answers. Instead they are to say, “Well, that is one way of getting an answer, here is another.” Everyone gets a participation trophy. Safe spaces for students who break down and cry at being called, four eyes, fatty, or stupid. Administrations more interested in keeping a warm body in a seat so that they can collect their government funding than actually educating the kids. And what do we get, a buch of entitled, whiney, self entitled, millennials, incapable of social interactions outside their own little bubble of awareness.
2 Likes
Oh fuck Tin (Wiping a tear from my eye) I never knew you had it so bad. Those fucking adults! How heartless! Give a young child a quarter and no way to spend it. The psychological torture explains why you are the assholoe you are today. I can’t even imagine the horror of the experience as you traversed the noman’s land between your cave-like dwelling and that which can ease your pain and suffering. Wet grass eating away at your little metal toes, the heat from the sun drying out your lubricated joints, dust in the air choking the diodes and transistors, and still you moved forward, step by step, inch by inch, groping with all your being towards the relief you knew you needed, and then that fucking bitch grabs you and drags you home. Oh my God! What a fucking way to treat a child. I’m so glad things have changed in today’s world. Today, you would have been given a scouting badge for traversing such a distance. Your parents would be put in prison for abandoning you and not giving you the support you needed. The store owner would reqard you with a piece of candy and tell you what a smart young man you were before molesting you. If I had your childhood I would sit around the house sucking down Jim Beam, smoking crack, and cutting on myself with razor blades. What a fucked up life. No wonder you have turned top torturing youself with Carolina Reaper Challenges, marrying a Witch, and turning to a life of secret eggnog consumption.
1 Like
I think that “rat” guy mentioned in one of his responses peoples’ fear of death affecting how they’ve chosen to live their lives. I personally don’t think it’s affecting me, except as a way to make the pain stop.
I’m not afraid of death, in some ways I’m looking forward to it, no more pain. Hopefully I’ll have some say in when/how it happens. Some days are worse than others, and I think about it. I don’t think those thoughts ever go away completely when you’ve been as depressed as I have been on some days.
There have been times when I literally didn’t care whether or not I would make it through that day, and then I have days when I want to stick around to see our grandkids grow up and get married.
My mind seems to have gotten a little foggier in the past couple of years, I have moments of confusion or I’ll walk into a room and forget why I’m there.
My wife thinks it might be the medications I’m taking, I think it’s just due to aging. I’m older now than my dad was when he retired in 1990.
Death is inevitable, it’s going to happen to every single person on this planet, but in some way I’M looking forward to it.
Does this make me abby-normal?
1 Like
Ha! Not so fast!.. (digging in pants pocket… pulling out a clump of lint, a half-eaten Life Saver, a five day old truck stop receipt, and assorted coins)… Here… (handing over a dime, two nickels, and five pennies from the change)… Fifteen more minutes…
Well, as time went on, there were those rare occasions when I would be in possession of a WHOLE DOLLAR to spend during my convenience store visit. Just try to imagine the pressure and responsibility that can cause on such a young child… (shudder)… Those days were always stressful and daunting dilemmas for me. “Mad Magazine” was highly popular and my favorite literature of choice during that time, and they cost seventy five cents (if I recall correctly). I’m sure you can see the problem at this point…
With that one dollar, I could have bought enough candy (AND a soda) to make me the most popular kid in the projects for that day. However, if I purchased the magazine, I would have enough left for only a soda and maybe a few pieces of candy barely enough to calm my sugar jitters. The choice was between intellectual stimulation (the “Mad Magazine”), or satisfying a raging sweet tooth while gaining valuable popularity points among my peers. Those types of decisions were simply far too much to expect from such a young mind. It was a struggle.
We all have our idiosyncrasies. I have a very hard time NOT dehumanizing people. I LITERALLY have to remind myself other people are just like me. Stumbling through life using the limited information they have. If they were fed bad information (insert any stupid religious, political, classist, etc. teaching here) how can I be mad at them? They only know what they know. Just like the inverse I only know what I know. I should not just assume the worst in people.
Perspective is an eye opening discovery. That’s why I try all kinds of new experiences, and talk to different people now. It was hard dealing with other human beings for me, I was very much a total loner. I have since evolved into the guy who sings and cracks jokes at work all day long. I mean I will literally sing “listen to your heart” by Roxette or “perfect day” by Lou Reed (among many many other songs) at the top of my lungs while playing with 220 volts of electricity or hammering a stuck pin out of some pile of garbage machine. You can be whoever you choose to be, stepping through the door and embracing it fully is the hard part. It has been a very arduous and long epic journey.
No psychedelics needed.
1 Like
It’s often easier to reject than risk rejection. Then again, being an introvert myself, I fully understand the comfort in ‘keeping my distance.’ The real question is… Do you know how to be social and interact with others? Not knowing how is a problem. Knowing how to be social and socialize with a wide variety of people and then choosing not to is a whole different social skill.
1 Like
I’ve actually found that to be true of many (most) people I have encountered in my life. From childhood on up into my later adult years, I always lived my life on the edge doing whatever stupid daredevil stunt I could find to get an adrenaline rush. As a kid I always wanted to be a stuntman. And while I never did make it to the Hollywood film industry, I still ended up fulfilling that dream in a roundabout fashion. The difference, though, is that there were no “safety nets” or protection measures in place during my real-world adventures/stunts. And through it all, I don’t ever remember having a fear of death. The thought rarely entered my mind.
On the other hand, most people who knew me and the things I did would always shake their heads and call me crazy. “Oh, my god! I’ve always wanted to (insert “dangerous” activity of choice), but I could NEVER do anything like that. What if I got killed?” Sheesh! To steal a line from one of my all-time favorite movies (“Heat”): “You could get killed walking your little doggie.” Point being, I’ve known oh-so-many people who have never fully experienced actual LIVING. They have merely EXISTED. Even though they may have the DESIRE to try fun and exciting activities, their “fear of death” totally overrides those desires and pushes them to seek a dull and uneventful “life” of “being safe”. Even worse, in some cases, are those who spend their entire lives cowering in their dark little homes wringing their hands in anxiety worrying about what might kill them the next time they have to go buy groceries.
Sure, I may have done some crazy shit, and I may have taken way too many unnecessary risks over the years. And, sure, my body is now reminding me of many of those crazy stunts that did not go quite as planned. But at least I didn’t just sit around watching the shit on tv, going, “Man, I wish I could do that!” I actually got out there and DID that shit. It is sad to me how so many people never truly LIVE, just because they are afraid of death. They end up dying without ever really living.
1 Like
I don’t know why that is hard to understand. It is my expression as well. I have had a great life. I have used up and continue to use up this body of mine. It’s falling apart and still I get out to the squash club 3 times a week, take insanely long walks, eat foods that would kill a horse, and pretend like I am 25. My hope is to have a massive heart attack while I’m out walking and just die on the spot. I’m a realist. I spent too many years watching people rot in convelescent hospitals. I really want to end my own life before I am sitting in a wheelchair pissing on myself with half a brain while the oameal stains and jelly from breakfast three days ago harden on my pajama top. Euthenasia is my friend.
2 Likes
If you’re into stand up, listen to this guys first maybe 20 minutes. Talks about how he helped his mom commit suicide with morphine, this is how I’m going out if I have any say in the matter.
(fishing around in pile of paper…where’s my damn pen?)…Oh yeah, picking up where we left off… uh, can you describe what occurred upon your return home? Was the sugar bowl in easy reach for you?
Now, let’s talk a little about this “Mad” magazine. Did you find aspects of this magazine to be directly or indirectly related to your experiences of the world, at that time?
Were you aware of the application of sarcasm and satire which somewhat permeated the contents of the magazine? If not, are you now aware of those aspects?
Moving on… there is a slogan or “motto”, if you will, associated with this publication., usually in conjunction with a “Alfred E. Neuman” character. Are you familiar with it?
Now, as you reflect on some of the activities in which you participated that contained various degrees of identifiable risk of injury or death…Do you ever recall having any images appear in your mind just as you were deciding to go ahead with the risky behavior?
Was there any time before, during, or after when the Alfred E. Neuman character was visible to you, either in external reality or in your mind?
Given the answers you have provided through your insistence on a reticent attitude, clearly as a means for obfuscation, I would have to conclude that you have nothing to worry about… however, it does seem somewhat apparent that you may have had, or even still may have, a dissociative fixation surrounding the Neuman character.
Essentially I would advise you to continue an attitude of rejection of the idea of “worry”, as it has obviously provided you with untold adventures and now, exciting and entertaining memories…Uh…I’m sure you understand that there will be an adjustment to my normal fee…
1 Like
I believe you and empathize. Your family is glad that you did, however.
This is about you, so I will not elaborate, but I had a number of mornings that upon waking up my first thoughts were “what’s the fuckin point?”…another day of pain, meds,naps, more pain…wtf? I am better, at least temporarily. I hope for you that you have some reprieve from the pain thing. It is a lonely struggle sometimes.
I have six grandchildren, four of which live near me. I am glad to still be around for them, even if in a limited capacity.
I understand your acceptance and sometimes even a welcoming of the death. We know it is definitely a solution to pain. Unfortunately it is permanent and in fact creates more pain for our survivors. Your wife obviously loves you and cares about you to have stayed with you for this long…you fuckin metal-head!
I have no great insight or answers. I do have an appreciation for life, as long as it is more or less on my terms.
3 Likes
I just got my “occupational first aid, health and safety” level 2 certificate. I’m licensed to bring you back from a heart attack with CPR and a defibrillator. I don’t even need your consent! It’s assumed!!! Ha ha ha!!! 30 chest compressions for every (mmm. I get horny just thinking about this next one) TWO ventilations. Gunna get my lips all over you! Mmm 
gunna save your LIFE! 
1 Like
“What? Me worry?” Words by which to live a happy life. They gave me hope during my darkest hours.
1 Like
I think we may have made some real progress here…I will see you next week at the same time…
(Edit for four )
1 Like
The archetypal grumpy old git wishing things were “his way” because “he turned out alright”
Do get fucked with that crap Cog. It does you no credit and in the rare times you do spout some sense makes me question even that.
Most young people I meet are better educated, better natured and much more egalitarian than they ever were during the 50’s to date.
I enjoy their attitudes, and employers will have to look out if they want to retain and enhance their employees skills because they will not take the shit that we were served in a plain brown bread sandwich as breakfast lunch and dinner.
It is that generation you so despise Cog that is our future, and I rather like the way they are going despite the Trumps, Trusses and Putins still dinosauring around.
So, on behalf of the millennials fuck right off you whining self entitled boomer old git.
Here’s a banana.
2 Likes
Wow! I’m hanging out with the wrong crowd. Not my experience at all. Heads buried in video games, no interests outside of what new band is hot or the latest fashion or TV show. Out to lunch together, not even conversing, heads buried in cell phones texting someone not even there or playing a video game. Perhaps it’s geography?
I also don’t see a better nature. Touchy, feely, overly sensitive. Certainly not saying you are wrong. Just saying my experience is different. (I worked at an international university for the past 7 years,) That is not a justification but an explanation of why I may have the perception I do. I would love to meet your crowd.
Bananas are always appreciated.
1 Like
Now that is perfectly normal. Since my heart attack in Feb I have found that my memory is failing. I cant read a script and memorise it anymore…so no more acting.
I am short of breath so cant sustain a “voice” anymore…so no more voice work…and having just completed the voices for Book 1 in a trilogy, that really fucking hurts. Never mind the loss of income.
I really dont care day to day, I live each day as it comes. Some days are full of pain from my other problems, some days are relatively full of energy.
My sight is now failing and I have osteo arthritis in my right hand…so yup sold my last guitar this past week, I cannot play any more.
Coping strategies…now there’s a thing, I gamed for a while and still do (hand permitting) I bought myself an Oculus (meta 2) and it is mind boggling. I changed the garden to be old crippled duffer friendly and now I collect wine, germaniums and pelargoniums in equal quantities.
In fact I am looking at changing my workshop/studio into a wine lair with wine racks up the walls as I am purchasing great wine from auctions and distressed winery sales. Yum (hic)
Now to continue my tales of woe, My wife/partner is slowly descending into the pits of dementia. As yet undiagnosed as she flat out refuses to tell the doc what is happening and I don’t yet want (cant cope with) the consequences from her if I do the telling…she is forgetful, (great when II want to watch a movie again…it is all new to her). Not so great when the ever simmering anger (at life) bubbles to her consciousness and I get attacked verbally for several hours.
I have learnt to shut down, continue the routine calmly and ignore an passive aggressive or actual aggressive comments until she (Linda) returns to the meatshell and takes over again. How long I can continue doing this on my own I do not know. She will not accept her decline or any help from outsiders. It will be a crisis I think next year…or she will die of natural causes…or I will. So until then
I live every day with an expectation of good things. I argue my politics, my atheism, my belief in the future, my hope for the youngsters taking over the complete mess we have made of this planet, my jpoy in accessing AR every morning and seeing what crap you lot are talking, oh and as a tid bit I have nearly finished my essay on Marcion…I will publish a precis here soon.
So there you are Mr Macabre, yes I get depressed, yes I have desuetude in spades, but despite all the shitty things this meatsack has wrong, failing as it is, it is the only vehicle I have. The only present I have, the only 'now" I will ever know. I fucking revel in it.
It took me a lot of behavioral tricks and a zen background to get this “content”. Live in the moment. That’s it. REALLY live in the moment.
2 Likes
Yep. Have to agree with you on that and all the above. (@Old_man_shouts_at_cl ) Maybe Australia makes a different type of youth. I hope it is true, for their sake. But here in the U.S., with a few very rare exceptions, most of the youth, and those in their twenties, are practically brain-dead and socially inept. From dealing with them on a personal level, to observing how they behave in public, to attempting to explain basic procedures, to overhearing group conversations (whenever they might actually be TALKING to each other), it is considerably disturbing to see how woefully dysfunctional our “hope for the future” has become. And GOD FORBID they do not have a phone or laptop on their person at ALL TIMES. It’s like taking an individual Borg and “unplugging” it from the hive. Totally lost and practically useless. It’s as if they have no sense of self-thought or critical thinking. Again, there are a few exceptions out there, but they are few and far between. Holy hell, the “kids” cannot even give back proper change at the checkout without first consulting the register readout. And we are talking about GROWN men and women in their twenties. Damn, when I was SEVEN, I was able to calculate IN MY head how much change to give back to a customer when I helped my grandaddy work in the gas station. I go out in public now, and sometimes I just can’t help but see the movie “Idiocracy” playing out in front of me. It’s sad.
My bad, Cog. Sorry I made you cry. And please don’t think I was trying to “downplay” your own childhood struggles. I know it must have been rough for you. I was only trying to empathize and let you know you are not alone in dealing with childhood traumas. For instance…
I was about three, I think, and the ice cream truck was making its daily route through the trailer park on another sweltering summer day. As usual, all the kids came running and screaming in joy at the prospect of getting their favorite cold and creamy treat. I was no exception. After what seemed an eternity of waiting, it was finally my turn at the truck. “A chocolate chip ice cream cone with chocolate sprinkles, please,” I said as I handed the friendly operator the change my Mom had given me. And a few seconds later I had my fabulous treat in my stubby little hands, greedily licking it as it almost instantly started to melt and drip… And then it happened…
Walking away from the truck, I was so totally focused on not losing a single drop of ice cream that I paid no attention to the sidewalk curb, and it caught my right foot as I failed to step up on it. Everything turned to slow motion at that point. The tinkering tune of the truck as it rolled away to its next stop… The site of my ice cream cone leaving my hands as my mind attempted to process what had happened… The distorted sounds of the other children laughing as they enjoyed their treats… The ice cream cone slowly tumbling end-over-end on its trajectory towards a large pile of dog poop in the grass near the edge of the sidewalk… The sidewalk coming up to face me as I put my tiny little arms forward to break my fall… And then I was down. Time returned to normal speed.
I quickly pushed myself up onto my knees, and I sat there a moment looking at my skint hands and wondering, “Where did my ice cream go?” Then I raised my eyes to see my delicious treat. The scoop of ice cream had parted company with the cone. And, to my horror, it was quickly melting away in the grass and dirt with a small chunk of dog turd sticking out on one side. It was hopeless. There was no recovering it. And though I could still hear the tinkering tune of the ice cream truck (two blocks away by now), it may as well have been on the other side of the world. I remember nothing more about that day except for when I went to bed that evening. For I lay there in the dark… sleepless… staring up toward the ceiling and thinking to myself, “Will Life always be this hard? If so, how will I ever make it?” Sure, there were tough times, but in the long run they made me a better person.
So, I just want you to know that no matter how bad things may have been for you as a child, things could have been worse. We are survivors, Cog. Always remember that.
(Edited for several stupid mistakes.)
1 Like