Friday, March 18, 2016

second level severity

"we're cool, just don't call me out like that in the meeting again"

oh, i won't call you out in a meeting again. you've got your point - i'm not going to dispute that. it's more important to understand than to be understood. but at the end, i understand this most of all: we're not cool. we never were. and to think that i trusted you enough after a few short weeks to think that we were, well that just shows me that i was being a dumbass.

i know damn well that you can't trust people at work. i'm experienced enough to know better. i know that no matter how cool someone tries to get with you, they will never, ever understand you or where you're coming from. they will certainly never understand your honesty or sense of humour, and you'll sure as hell never be able to adapt to theirs. you are going to put your fucking foot in your mouth and piss off the wrong person eventually so it is best to simply stop trying to fit in, be friends, loosen up, any of that. you are simply too awkward around these people and you fucking know that!

no more mr funny guy. time to be a full on class a mr serious. because the next time they decide to pull a hissy fit it could land you in fucking court. just don't even go there because they are most certainly not worth it.

i write this because, as expected, after a few weeks of remaining on guard and 100% professional around these two oddballs who are obviously bffs, i began to loosen up a little and let my guard down, exposing my sense of humour and playing along a little with their gags. at first, i was afraid to do this, because it is very difficult (read: impossible) to censor myself effectively for strangers/professional environment if i'm allowing brevity.

the problem with not censoring myself effectively is that i have a mean voice inside. it says things through me that sound WAY different than what i actually mean. it comes from my family, from the way we've been raised for generations. there is just some really cutting, awful shit that comes out sometimes, and the saddest thing is, it usually comes out when we are trying, from the heart, to help out and be honest.

this is the curse of my family: to, while trying really hard to offer help or honest advice, completely belittle someone and make them feel inadequate and hopeless. you feel in your chest that you're projecting empathy and sincerity, and what comes out of your mouth ends up being wrong, and you just watch as the other person's face twists up in pain. people almost never want to hear the truth, no matter how you say it. and then you realize afterward that this person just shut down completely and thinks you're an absolute fuckhead for saying whatever it is that you said.

so after you called me out for making you feel icky (by offering a helping hand), and me feeling shame, shame, shame, shame, shame, shame, guilt, shame, shame, shame and guilt, now i'm just pissed. because at the end of the day it's my own fucking fault. i know better. i let my guard down. i hurt someone else by letting my awful self out. and at the end of it all, i feel like that person is a fuckhead for getting hurt over something so trivial.

that's complicated. and i'm not trying to live a complicated life. so here's the news: we are not cool. we will never be cool. it's professional and that's it.

my mouth is shut and will not open again.

Sunday, January 03, 2016

teething on treason

have you ever thought back on the things you used to say and think? do they make you wonder what the fuck you were about with this shit? i know i do.

"i've been reading israeli blogs to get a feel for whats up in the east. i havent gone over to the lebanese blogs yet, but i'm getting there. i managed to start a low grade flamewar with an anonymous commenter on the israeli blog i was checking out. it was quite obvious from his poor grammar and spelling and oddly shallow yet aggressive mindset that he was american. the real giveaway was how he kept quoting michael savage. it was funny to me, because he was talking about the enemy within on an israeli blog, with people who have probably never heard of savage, let alone the enemy within thing. it's a whole book, for peter's sake. this anonymous ameriki was ranting about how in a time of war, if people were protesting against the war, we would (read: should) arrest them for treason. most of the israeli and lebanese commenters pointed out that americans are always too ready to denounce that which our country was founded on. (free speech, for one)

as usual, the answer lies somewhere in the middle. yes, in a time of war (what time isnt a time of war these days, for any people of earth?) we must be vigilant and watch for treasonous and seditious enemies of our states, within our own borders, and protect ourselves. but consider the fact that now, although we are not at war with any specific country, not officially, for what its worth, we have leftist senators and congressman rooting for al qaida and hizballah simply because if the terrorists gain ground, so will bush lose ground, along with his party. no thoughts for the innocents that might die on the road to re-election. consider also the case of the new york times and its lewd and perverse relationship with the CIA, enabling them to come across valuable national security information and then publish it for the american people and those who wish to destroy our way of life to see. these are all people and organizations running free within our "democracy", and i have seen no charges brought against them. at the same time as the left tries to destroy our country under the false flag of diversity and "the common man", the right in this country is busy inviting anyone south of the border to come on in and live off of our taxpayers. nevermind the millions of people waiting impatiently in line to come to our fine country, if you are from mejico, you get a free pass to the front of the line! free tacos, and free healthcare. all you have to do is trudge your sweaty, downtrodden ass across the border. dont worry, there is no fence. just welcoming border patrol agents, and goodwill emissaries with bottles of water.

i raised the point with this fellow, that if we should prosecute simple, peaceful, (although perhaps ignorant and sometimes violent) demonstrators, then why should we not try those at the highest levels of government, and those who sit in their ivory towers of the media establishment, for their treasonous actions? for one, our system has no recourse through which the people can bring down the fools who claim to represent them and shame them in the streets. once in office, you can believe that they will stay in office. for a good, long time. representative republic, my ass!"


an angry young man i was. obviously dissatisfied with the offerings from the talk radio, and not presented with any decent offerings from the nonexistent left media, and saturated by the blogosphere of the times, i really had no fucking idea what i was talking about. sure, i was passionate. but even in this vehement rant, which i look back upon now as being completely ignorant, i notice a constant: a burning anger that the whole thing is a crock of slow cooking bullshit that makes "sides" look like wrinkled little pork rinds. my youthful anger was easily co-opted into some shit that doesn't make a fuck of difference no matter whose side i fell in with. children, youth, young adults in the US - join me in being FUCK ALL pissed off that we don't have shit we can get behind, and are instead distracted by "both sides" and now even with "micro aggressions" and ever-more inane talking points that serve only to further enslave us and every child we birth into a bewilderingly ignorant future. fuck what i've been taught and fuck what i was ever exposed to. this is ridiculous and always has been.

Saturday, January 02, 2016

stifling sensitivity

it takes time to rebuild.

Looking up from his ledgers and lists, he takes a moment, by accident, to breathe deeply and take in the things going on in the room. The low hum of the fan he keeps on to distract from his tinnitus, the fan which he is beginning to suspect might be causing his tinnitus. the door cracked open because he never bothered to put on a doorknob. beyond it, a room full of unnecessary boxes cast aside in haste to get to their contents. things underneath that should go into place in rooms not yet built. items around them which hold enough meaning to be kept and forgotten rather than rejected and thrown out. it passes through his mind that he ought to do something about these things before it starts to get really cluttered out there, and realizes that it is really fucking cluttered out there. following that thought with the usual analytical zeal he tends to unwittingly summon up when he has something more pressing to do which is just boring or difficult enough to make it worth procrastinating, he begins to count up how long he's been here, how tidy things used to be kept, and what happened between now and then that allowed the mess to get so far out of hand.

Another deep breath, this one intentional, and a smile, he remembers how bad things used to be, and gives honest thanks that his most serious concern at the moment is finding some time to pick up the anteroom.

I happened by here today through a glitch that had someone posting a comment to my last post about something totally unrelated. i started idly scrolling through and caught a glimpse of myself during a very difficult time in my life and immediately felt the urge to take it down. but this is a pre 2010 blog, started in a time when social media was a little more honest, a little less obsessed with polishing a public image. a blog takes effort to go and read, you have to type in an address, click on a bookmark, or add it to your rss. this effort means that your blog will most likely have 0 readers at any given moment, so it's easier to be honest knowing that no one is going to read what you have to say, at least not for a few years or so. compare that with the always-on mobile-centric social media of 2016, where everything you post is viewed by everyone you know, and in many cases, everyone they know and even some people three or four times removed, couple that with the fact that no one really stops to read anything you write unless it makes their brain squirt off some chemicals as they idly scroll by it, unless it pisses them off, makes them horny, jealous, insecure, affectionate, mirthful, etc, well, these days you have to keep it short and sweet and you have to make sure you don't rock the boat. i'm glad to remain detached from that type of media. in this less trafficked milieu the urge to polish the image is weak, often nonexistent if there are no self-pictures on the site.

on the surface, i was writing about my health. hindsight shows me that i was writing and thinking about something else, and in a very fierce denial about it, because denial is so much easier than facing your fears and stepping out into the horror of the world as it is, rather than as we tell ourselves it is, taking a breath and smelling garbage, looking up at the sky and feeling very small. The world outside is a tough place. harder and nastier still is the world we make up in our heads and try to defend even as it ravages our bodies and grinds our hopes under it's spurred heel.

it took time to rebuild, but first i had to look up from my bullshit, take a deep breath, and face the things that were wrong with my life, the piss poor decisions i had made, the cowardice i displayed in hiding from them. to consider fixing it up, i had to realize that the place had gone to shit and fallen apart.

the health problems i was facing in my last post are 95% healed. juicing didn't help, no fad diets helped, and the round after round of medication the clueless doctors were happy to keep prescribing in lieu of actually treating me made things undeniably worse every single day. though i did change a few things regarding nutrition and lifestyle, the main thing that accounts for the bulk of my recovery is the practice of buddhist meditation.

overtime i began to realize that my health and happiness depended on me opening up completely to all of the things in my mind and my experience, especially the things that made me hurt, and the thoughts that made me afraid. i had to stifle my sensitivity and let life beat  me as bad as it wanted, let my feelings be felt fully, in the face of my own horror at what they would do to me. before finding buddhist meditation, if i had attempted to experience life this way, it is likely that i would have become a danger to myself (i already was, but it would have gotten worse). meditation was the tool which allowed me to build a toolbox and put a few useful implements inside. with these in hand, i began the hard work of rebuilding my mind, body, and life.

and it's working much better than a few days with a juicer followed by a plunge back into denial.