Worlds
"It is a subset of a routine that
has roots in one circle, but overlaps the triangles and squares just-so as to
create a smaller set of things that eventually don't even share a single
point."
The more I think about life and things too big to
think about the more I realize that there are surely "worlds" that we create and
live within as we go through the years. I mean, we all develop as people,
adults I suppose, and build what we will be either proactively or reactively.
Ultimately it is the same beast.
I grew up watching my homicide-cop father breaking in my mother's face. I called the cops to stop him and watched authority come to mean nothing to me. Cops won't arrest another cop if they can avoid it. The badge means nothing to me but two faced bullshit.
I watched my mother drink alongside my father. He was self medicating his life away and she medicated to make it through his abuse and abandonment. Together they drank themselves into oblivion and fought and hated and neglected.
I was born with fetal alcohol poisoning. I have the migraines to remember those days now. Still, my sister (just four years older than I am) took care to make sure I lived through the seizures and that fun. Mom and dad were either fighting or drunk when I was in need of that care.
I grew up hating. Then I learned to forgive. I learned to be kind. I learned a lot. I also learned that I don't want anything to do with that world. Alcohol is a monster except in such minor cases that there is no redemption I'm willing to seek for it. People who come to depend on it are monsters too. They may be sad, or tragic, but they are still monsters. They have decided to take one ill in place of another. No, I am not so naive that I think anyone drinking is a monster. Get over yourself.
So, now I live in a world of no trust and I can still find the alcohol creeping behind the question marks. I live in a world where "stories" need to be corroborated. I live without knowing the few things that could be certainties. I don't want to live in that world.
I suppose it is a closed case, but I read Michael's blog and I realize that there is a lot that was left out when I learned what I did about his touching my life...in a round about way. But, there I find all the sadness and suicide talk and woe of the world; his world that is.
Part of me grows ignorantly tired of it all. (I say ignorant because I have only pieces of the story, yet that IS the context of such a blog) I am through wallowing in sad things. The world IS in your control and you CAN find a way to be happy. There is no reason to live like Michael seems to. I say that only as an example of what I don't intend to become.
Michael notes how dark things get and then talks of self medicating with margaritas and so on. There is a heavy dose of old fashioned bragging in there (oooooh look how sad he is...he drinks sooo much) but there is much more pathos. The rhetoric (admit it or not) is that Michael needs to hide THAT much from his world. I don't understand that at all. Why not just throw life away?
That is just it, I think. I have realized what I mean. The drama is presented like this. And, Michael is just a case study. I'm talking about the larger picture. But, the drama is such that the hero says "oooh, poor me" and then drinks him or herself into oblivion. The over-drama is that the same end is reached by going to bed. The same end of wasting away life and consciousness is reached by unplugging. Why do that? Am I supposed to be impressed? Why wouldn't any healthy person just say enough and leave.
There is absolutely nothing easy about living. No one thinks that. There is no easy fix to real problems. But, why choose to add a big dose of misery on top of it all? It seems a pathology deeper than any of the self stated ones.
Yeah, you guessed it. I'm talking about a lot of things here. But, I'm not talking about myself. Health has finally come to me and I am realizing that there is a place for those who choose to be joyful in life, who choose life itself. There is room to be glad that the sun came up and glad that the chilly air came back when it went back down.
I'm so fucking over people who are throwing away the most cherished or cherishable of all things.
I grew up watching my homicide-cop father breaking in my mother's face. I called the cops to stop him and watched authority come to mean nothing to me. Cops won't arrest another cop if they can avoid it. The badge means nothing to me but two faced bullshit.
I watched my mother drink alongside my father. He was self medicating his life away and she medicated to make it through his abuse and abandonment. Together they drank themselves into oblivion and fought and hated and neglected.
I was born with fetal alcohol poisoning. I have the migraines to remember those days now. Still, my sister (just four years older than I am) took care to make sure I lived through the seizures and that fun. Mom and dad were either fighting or drunk when I was in need of that care.
I grew up hating. Then I learned to forgive. I learned to be kind. I learned a lot. I also learned that I don't want anything to do with that world. Alcohol is a monster except in such minor cases that there is no redemption I'm willing to seek for it. People who come to depend on it are monsters too. They may be sad, or tragic, but they are still monsters. They have decided to take one ill in place of another. No, I am not so naive that I think anyone drinking is a monster. Get over yourself.
So, now I live in a world of no trust and I can still find the alcohol creeping behind the question marks. I live in a world where "stories" need to be corroborated. I live without knowing the few things that could be certainties. I don't want to live in that world.
I suppose it is a closed case, but I read Michael's blog and I realize that there is a lot that was left out when I learned what I did about his touching my life...in a round about way. But, there I find all the sadness and suicide talk and woe of the world; his world that is.
Part of me grows ignorantly tired of it all. (I say ignorant because I have only pieces of the story, yet that IS the context of such a blog) I am through wallowing in sad things. The world IS in your control and you CAN find a way to be happy. There is no reason to live like Michael seems to. I say that only as an example of what I don't intend to become.
Michael notes how dark things get and then talks of self medicating with margaritas and so on. There is a heavy dose of old fashioned bragging in there (oooooh look how sad he is...he drinks sooo much) but there is much more pathos. The rhetoric (admit it or not) is that Michael needs to hide THAT much from his world. I don't understand that at all. Why not just throw life away?
That is just it, I think. I have realized what I mean. The drama is presented like this. And, Michael is just a case study. I'm talking about the larger picture. But, the drama is such that the hero says "oooh, poor me" and then drinks him or herself into oblivion. The over-drama is that the same end is reached by going to bed. The same end of wasting away life and consciousness is reached by unplugging. Why do that? Am I supposed to be impressed? Why wouldn't any healthy person just say enough and leave.
There is absolutely nothing easy about living. No one thinks that. There is no easy fix to real problems. But, why choose to add a big dose of misery on top of it all? It seems a pathology deeper than any of the self stated ones.
Yeah, you guessed it. I'm talking about a lot of things here. But, I'm not talking about myself. Health has finally come to me and I am realizing that there is a place for those who choose to be joyful in life, who choose life itself. There is room to be glad that the sun came up and glad that the chilly air came back when it went back down.
I'm so fucking over people who are throwing away the most cherished or cherishable of all things.
Posted: Fri - November 21, 2003 at 02:19 PM
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Published On: Nov 23, 2003 07:23 PM
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Published On: Nov 23, 2003 07:23 PM