So I haven't had much creative inspiration lately, that would be the reasoning for the lack of posts. Not there hasn't been any material around me, there is more than ever, to much to remember, and I get so wrapped up in it that I forget to step back and observe the bouquet of humor blooming before me. But it has come to the point where this can no longer be ignored, to the point that I can no longer discount the farcical, hilarious, daffy behaviors that surround me on a daily basis.
So to quickly bring you up to date I have moved on. I am now in what we call "transitional housing", the idea comes from the thought that this is the phase that we transition into the real world, into society, back into the place that chewed us up and spit us out. In reality it is more like a transition into a place that is just insane as the place I just came from, the petri dish of a living arrangement. What I have transitioned into is a home where a logically person would think " Oh well these people must have it together a little more than the people in the intensive phase of treatment, they have learned the tools to survive and now they are trying them in the real world." WRONG!! I thought that too, oh how wrong I can be, it's interesting how far off my idea of what "could be" can be so far off it's embarrassing. You would think after 7 rehabs I would know this "system" like the back of my hand, but there is one thing everyone has to remember about this crowd... they...we are totally unpredictable...to the point of disaster.
So I am now being reintegrated into society, a caterpillar breaking out of the cocoon after a long agonizing phase of metamorphosis. I moved into a house with a bunch of the guys I went through treatment, into the "pent house room" given that name because it is the biggest room in the house, and you dont share a bathroom. Its a nice room, all things considered. But there was one thing I failed to grasp, "why, if it is the nicest room , am I moving into it". This room is often reserved for the seniors of the program, and I am certainly no senior compared to the majority of these house mates. Some have been there 2 or more years. Well sadly, and to my demise, I soon found out why this bed was open, and no one had moved into it. It is because of the Sasquatch-like organism that resides there, in the "pent house". I will call him...hmmm...Dip-shit. Let me describe this social reject to you, it may seem mean what I am about to say, but I will express some kind of empathy afterward.
Dip-shit is the most abrasive, ugly, annoying, cocky ( I don't understand how such behemoth can be cocky)dick I have ever met. It was made clear to me with in the first 3 hours of moving in there why no one wanted to move into Dip-shit's room. My first impression of him was seeing his neat room, which is very nice on the surface, I hate messy people so this was a plus. I was soon made aware that this neat, primp display was but a veneer to cover up a slob of a man, a total asshole, who, for some reason, feels he is above everyone he encounters, feels he knows everything said person needs to know to live a happy life, and feels the need to press this opinion on you like a hot iron on the small of your back. Damn , I really do get along with a lot of people but this is a test, hopefully someday this will pay off, my thought is , if I can learn to deal with this guy , than I should never, ever, for any fucking reason, have another problem with another human being in my life.
Our first interaction went like this:
I walk into the room after getting coffee after I moved into the room. Dip-shit was gone at work when I moved in. So I walk in the bedroom to go take a piss (coffee does this to me, I know it does it to everyone, but when I drink coffee its like the amount of liquid I just drank multiplies by 20 and I piss every 3 minutes, like a 90 year old man)and Dip-shit is standing by his bed doing some type of taekwondo that no man his size should ever attempt, it looked like a whale would , if the whale was standing upright on its tail attempting to do jumping jacks. So anyway, Dip-shit looks at me and becomes annoyed, I assume it's because I interrupted the spiritual trance he had entered to exercise his soul, but it was something much more pathetic. Dip-shit approach me with a out stretched pointed finger claiming that "you and I need to have a one on one". My first thought is " Great this ass is already starting, the rumors I heard were true" and my judgmental thoughts were dead on, I couldn't have been closer to the truth. D.S. precedes to lead me into the bathroom where he freezes and looks down at the toilet paper roll without saying a word, not a one. He peers over his glasses, like an angry school teacher, and waits patiently for me to ask "what?" "Well Mike" he so curtly exclaims with a long exhale afterward, as to physically display his disappointment. "Why the hell would you leave an empty toilet paper roll, there was a full roll on there when I left for work". " I don't know what you are talking about Dip-shit, I haven't even been here, I haven't even used this bathroom, I just came in now to take a piss", this is the truth I hadn't even seen the bathroom before this moment.
" So your saying someone is coming into my room to use my bathroom and all of my fuckin toilet paper"
"Ours"
"What?" Dipshit asks
"Our room Dip-shit"
I know exactly what Dip-shit was trying to accomplish from this interaction, and I was not going to buy into it. Dip-shit is attempting to claim his property, to let me know he is not to be fucked with, in an attempt to quell any disagreements over territories that may arise in the future, little does he know that I don't let anyone rent room in my head , especially this ass." So what are we going to do?", "I don't know Dip-Shit, what do you want me to do" I ask thinking that would be the end, but I was wrong, I had under estimated the nerve of this creature.
" Well what if I have to wipe my ass tonight, what am I going to do?" (really this is the conversation word for word), "improvise asshole" was the only smart-ass comment I had in my arsenal in response to such a question. He asked this question like it was rhetorical, like I should know that he wants me to find him a roll, because this was his next question " Well you gonna find a roll?"... this type of whipping boy personality is not in any way, shape, or form inside of me, so that was not going to happen. It was like he wanted me to respond like a little homeless English boy who, on the brink of starvation goes and fetches the top-hatted, high society member, his morning paper for a piece of bread, "Oh right away Mr.Dip-Shit, thank you so much sir, you have always been so good to me, thank you sir."
And just like that he realized that this was not going to be an east conquer, he would not easily claim this room as his own, treating me as a tenant, or a guest. You would think that after being in this program for 3, yes 3 years he would have developed some social skills. But no, this person is socially inept, totally impossible to communicate with on a reasonable, logical level.
I do feel bad for Dip-Shit, people like him don't ever develop meaningful, worthwhile relationships. They push everyone that gets close away with their need to be dominant, or it would appear this way. In reality I think it is actually that these type of people sabotage themselves, they don't really have a need to be dominant ,rather they hate themselves and therefore unconsciously create situations and events that give others a window to hate them as well. I have been there I know all about it, that's where the empathy comes in. But i still think he is an asshole.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
T.A.
Touchers Anonymous, that's what this guy needs, its down right creepy. He approaches you as if he is plucked right out of "night of the living dead" with his arms extended forward and his fingers wiggling. And his goal? to reach you and squeeze your neck, squeeze your ears, dig his knuckles into your back. It is quite disturbing, it has been going on for quite some time, and people have questioned his sexuality because of it. He has a daughter and was married, I am fairly sure he is straight. But something happened, something manifested itself in his drug use- after affects: excessive touching, grabbing, and creepy looks. I thought it was funny at first, like when your friend approaches you and pretends your boxing or some other kind of Corney male interaction, but this...this is different. He is old, covered in tattoos, temperamental, and weird. He has a temper that seems to go from 0-60 in under 2 seconds...coupled with the touching and you have a wicked combination. For example, he approached you and does what he does best, touches, and you move away or say something like " you creepy s.o.b. leave me alone" and he flips, as if at one point in his life god came to him and said " I your lord, give you the power to touch all you come into contact with", like he feels some divine entitlement to a squeeze or two.
I really don't know what to make of the whole situation, I just know that i run when I see him and hide in some nook or cove where I am invisible to his creepy line of sight. I seem to be a regular target of this, he will pass up 5 or 6 people in the hall just to get to me, like a seen from a movie - I watch him move in slow motion never looking at the people in front of him , magically moving through the crowd untouched as he approaches, when the bus passes between us that's when I disappear, and he is left looking for me...creep.
I find it hard to separate the odd pre-drug use behaviors from the outlandish post-drug use behaviors, all I do know for sure is that they are weird and make me never want to be surrounded by people like this again in this close of quarters.
I really don't know what to make of the whole situation, I just know that i run when I see him and hide in some nook or cove where I am invisible to his creepy line of sight. I seem to be a regular target of this, he will pass up 5 or 6 people in the hall just to get to me, like a seen from a movie - I watch him move in slow motion never looking at the people in front of him , magically moving through the crowd untouched as he approaches, when the bus passes between us that's when I disappear, and he is left looking for me...creep.
I find it hard to separate the odd pre-drug use behaviors from the outlandish post-drug use behaviors, all I do know for sure is that they are weird and make me never want to be surrounded by people like this again in this close of quarters.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Handsome Awkward
Well life as I perceive it certainly continues to get more awkward day to day. Human beings continue to amaze me with their antics and down right crazy behaviors. The worst part about it is time and time again I am reminded of the dumbfounding realization that " I too , am one of these people". When you refuse , at times, to see things objectively, you can completely detach from reality, and think of yourself as a world apart. These very thought patters keep me from realizing who it is I am , and what it is I need to do. None the less there is always humor to be found in daily life, and I have a grab bag of behaviors to choose from. So lets get to it.
I last left you with some Jerry happenings, but I am kind of getting burnt out on the whole Jerry thing. Jerry is still Jerry, and Jerry will continue to be Jerry until Jerry realizes that Jerry is a total ass, a man apart. I have something a little more disgusting to talk about this time, and its a doozy.
There is, or was a client by the name of Bill, now personally when I here the name Bill I immediately have a mental picture of some nice Caucasian fellow, maybe because that's my Uncles name and that's what he is, certain names provoke some depiction in my mind of what they should look like, and when the image is contradicted it throws my whole world into a spin. Kind of like when you encounter a Spanish looking fellow and he tells you his name is "John", just doesn't fit, not now , not ever. Back to Bill so Bill is 6'6 and he is as dark as midnight, I mean dark, and thin, very thin, an Ethiopian unhealthy type of thin, not a red carpet I starved myself to fit in this dress thin, but a this is in my genes thin. Anyway he is the darkest human being I have ever met, I honestly don't understand how scientifically it is possible that one man would possess some much color, or lack of it, however you want to look at it. And he is as dumb as a rock, I know he is from American, I know he has grown up with the English language but something in his mind does not allow him to grab ahold of it. That being said, it is quite funny when Bill attempts to drop some poetic wisdom on the family. Things like "the sunlight don't shine til' you out the dark" well thanks Bill, I would not have been able to understand the situation at hand with that glimpse of poetic genius inside of you. Bill once got caught in a mental trap when he attempt to explain to a family member that he should " let me help you help me help him help me help you help Bill...." and so on and so on like dividing 3 into 1 it was never ending. I thought for a second that he slipped into some kind of conscious mental coma, like a skipping CD or something, it wouldn't stop until it was interrupted.
Anyway, Bill is no longer with us. Why you might ask? Let me tell you. We have a sister program and there is a "no look, no talk, no touch" type of rule in to prevent any communication or unhealthy relationships from forming between the men and women. Looking for a girl in that program was once described as " shopping for a new car in a junk yard" and I couldn't agree more, other then the fact that they are all hideous , they are just as messed up as the people in my house. And personally I would never, ever , ever want to date someone that has the mental thought process that I possess, that would be an absolute nightmare, even I know this. So my friend Bill fell in love, head over heels ," I don't care about the god damn rule in love". This alone is humours, I have fell into this trap before. Early on in recovery there is a need to search for something to make you feel good, rather then doing the hard work and looking inside yourself, people like myself look for external things that we can turn to for some kind of instant gratification, and it usually ends up in catastrophe. I mean it gets ugly, real ugly...expectations don't get met and next thing you know your crying in a corner with your knees curled up in the fetal position ( not that I have been there , I just know a guy).
So Bill got busted, but here is the best part, Bill got busted making "love" to his rehab sweetheart in the public "family" bathroom at a near by shopping mall, a classy place to make love to say the least. After being confronted about this Bill stuck to his guns and claimed " I wont give up dis love for no one, not no one , I gots all i need wit my baby", if all he needs is another human being just as weird looking that comes with a side order or 4 little midgets than yeah...you sure got all you need Bill, more power to ya. So Bill left and his girl left, well they were asked to leave because they broken the golden rule, and he did it in a public bathroom. A certain mental image creeps into my mind when I think of the events that take place, for some reason I cant prevent imagining this going on, and it haunts me, it truly haunts me.
Bill's women was later spotted at the bus stop with some new weird ass looking dude who she was a little to intimate with to write it off as a brother or relative ( this however cannot be ruled out considering the crowd of people that inhabit these houses), and 4 midgets running around beside them.
Poor Bill, love hurts, love scars, and love should not be made to a person as crazy as you are in a public bathroom, what a valuable life lesson.
I last left you with some Jerry happenings, but I am kind of getting burnt out on the whole Jerry thing. Jerry is still Jerry, and Jerry will continue to be Jerry until Jerry realizes that Jerry is a total ass, a man apart. I have something a little more disgusting to talk about this time, and its a doozy.
There is, or was a client by the name of Bill, now personally when I here the name Bill I immediately have a mental picture of some nice Caucasian fellow, maybe because that's my Uncles name and that's what he is, certain names provoke some depiction in my mind of what they should look like, and when the image is contradicted it throws my whole world into a spin. Kind of like when you encounter a Spanish looking fellow and he tells you his name is "John", just doesn't fit, not now , not ever. Back to Bill so Bill is 6'6 and he is as dark as midnight, I mean dark, and thin, very thin, an Ethiopian unhealthy type of thin, not a red carpet I starved myself to fit in this dress thin, but a this is in my genes thin. Anyway he is the darkest human being I have ever met, I honestly don't understand how scientifically it is possible that one man would possess some much color, or lack of it, however you want to look at it. And he is as dumb as a rock, I know he is from American, I know he has grown up with the English language but something in his mind does not allow him to grab ahold of it. That being said, it is quite funny when Bill attempts to drop some poetic wisdom on the family. Things like "the sunlight don't shine til' you out the dark" well thanks Bill, I would not have been able to understand the situation at hand with that glimpse of poetic genius inside of you. Bill once got caught in a mental trap when he attempt to explain to a family member that he should " let me help you help me help him help me help you help Bill...." and so on and so on like dividing 3 into 1 it was never ending. I thought for a second that he slipped into some kind of conscious mental coma, like a skipping CD or something, it wouldn't stop until it was interrupted.
Anyway, Bill is no longer with us. Why you might ask? Let me tell you. We have a sister program and there is a "no look, no talk, no touch" type of rule in to prevent any communication or unhealthy relationships from forming between the men and women. Looking for a girl in that program was once described as " shopping for a new car in a junk yard" and I couldn't agree more, other then the fact that they are all hideous , they are just as messed up as the people in my house. And personally I would never, ever , ever want to date someone that has the mental thought process that I possess, that would be an absolute nightmare, even I know this. So my friend Bill fell in love, head over heels ," I don't care about the god damn rule in love". This alone is humours, I have fell into this trap before. Early on in recovery there is a need to search for something to make you feel good, rather then doing the hard work and looking inside yourself, people like myself look for external things that we can turn to for some kind of instant gratification, and it usually ends up in catastrophe. I mean it gets ugly, real ugly...expectations don't get met and next thing you know your crying in a corner with your knees curled up in the fetal position ( not that I have been there , I just know a guy).
So Bill got busted, but here is the best part, Bill got busted making "love" to his rehab sweetheart in the public "family" bathroom at a near by shopping mall, a classy place to make love to say the least. After being confronted about this Bill stuck to his guns and claimed " I wont give up dis love for no one, not no one , I gots all i need wit my baby", if all he needs is another human being just as weird looking that comes with a side order or 4 little midgets than yeah...you sure got all you need Bill, more power to ya. So Bill left and his girl left, well they were asked to leave because they broken the golden rule, and he did it in a public bathroom. A certain mental image creeps into my mind when I think of the events that take place, for some reason I cant prevent imagining this going on, and it haunts me, it truly haunts me.
Bill's women was later spotted at the bus stop with some new weird ass looking dude who she was a little to intimate with to write it off as a brother or relative ( this however cannot be ruled out considering the crowd of people that inhabit these houses), and 4 midgets running around beside them.
Poor Bill, love hurts, love scars, and love should not be made to a person as crazy as you are in a public bathroom, what a valuable life lesson.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
life under a microscope
As I mentioned before I would be getting back to Jerry's Jerrisms, and I will not allow my word to be anything but solid. Lets begin with last nights events (endless material), but let me first explain something. While in a place like this petty, minuscule issues are placed under a magnifying glass and blown up to 100 times what they should be. Things such as running out of toothpaste, not having a cigarette and receiving a weird glance, turn into major conflicts, wars...grown men , who's problems before they came here do not even compare to the issues going on in "normal" citizens lives, throw tantrums over the things that they would otherwise brush off. It is said that when you start using drugs your emotional maturity is halted, and I have found this to be true in both myself, and certainly in the people around me.
In this microcosm of a world little issues run riot, and if this is any indication of where the world "outside" is headed, then buckle your seat belts because the whole human race is in deep s***.
Before I tell you Jerry's latest, let me tell you about another character that is vital in the Jerry stories, for this character , Tommy, is Jerry's Nemesis. Tommy the cook, and former client, could be a whole story in itself. Tommy is the "kitchen Nazi", a man who treats the meal plan as if the budget is based on what he has in his pocket, a tight ass if you will. If its not on the menu its doesn't come out of the kitchen, rather it just gets thrown out when it sits there long enough to grow mold, or any other bacteria that is manifested in expired perishables, and let me assure you I am positive there are bacteria in that kitchen that are not yet known to modern science. When you ask Tommy for , lets say hot sauce, his reply is " its not on the menu, accept it" and when you attempt to explain that something, anything is needed to add flavor to his bland , over cooked food, he replies "dis is terapy" in a Jamaican accent, hes from somewhere non-domestic. Its like a mix between Jamaican and Mexican, I cant quite put my finger on it, nor do I want to , I have no desire whatsoever to understand what type of place breeds his kind. And oh yeah I forgot, he spent all of his money on a expensive SUV that has been converted to a mobile home, and everyone in the house is suspicious of an overly intimate relationship with his daughter, but we will leave that up to the gossip to take care of.
Back to Jerry.
Last night we had, as we do every Monday, "Chicken Fried Steak" which coincidentally is the same thing we have for Sunday lunch, only on Sunday its called a "chicken patty", where the reason for this was created I have no idea, and like Tommy's country of origin i really have no desire to inquire. Well when Jerry went through the line, he supposedly received less mash potatoes then the fellow family member before him. Jerry wasn't happy with this, and Jerry was determined to let everyone know, to the outside observer it would appear he just wanted what was owed to him, but I know Jerry, and Jerry likes opportunities like this to cause a wake throughout the house. Jerry proceeded to throw a tantrum in the middle of the line holding everyone up that was waiting for their wonderful chicken patty, I mean chicken fried steak. Saying things like "are you f****** with me, really? this is how you treat people? do you want me to cause a scene (to late for that)?" Jerry then marched off as a two year old would after he was unable to attain the final chocolate chip cookie before his brother swooped in like a raven to scoop it out of his grasp. It didn't stop with his sitting at the table, Jerry then decided that it would be appropriate to spat profanities with a mouth full of his food at his plate as he ate, as if it were the foods fault for not landing on his plate in the superfluous manner he would have preferred.
In reality people want Jerry gone, and they do things like this so he blows a gasket and leaves, but unfortunately for everyone present Jerry refuses to leave. Jerry has nowhere to go, Jerry is the type of person that collects cans, and scares the shit out of you when you are standing at your car putting away groceries when offers to take your shopping cart back to the docking station for a quarter, this is the type of life Jerry lives, and even Jerry is smart enough to realize that where he is now is a better place then where he was, even if he doesn't get the amount of mash potatoes that would be just.
I have attempted to talk to Jerry, unlike others I have no desire to force him out, if he is going to go then fine, but I will not be the one to force someone back into in a life on the streets, I have been there, I have no desire to go back. Just the other day I pointed out to Jerry that it is obvious that people want him gone, he made it that way, he forced people to act in this manner, but it doesn't mean he cant change it, just because things are the way they are doesn't mean they should be. Jerry takes everything personal, and refuses to leave a grudge where it belongs, in the past. When someone has wronged Jerry he gives them a stare every time he encounters his antagonize, a stare that could cut through steel, a stare that suggest something very violent in the near future. I sincerely told Jerry that he must begin to worry about himself and not buy into what the others are trying to sell him, a one way ticket back to the drug life.
I think everyone could apply this to their lives, people walk around self-conscious always worrying about what others will think , whether or not they will be accepted...myself included. Our way of life is practically shaped by these fears, how we dress, how we present ourselves, how we act in the presence of strangers, its all out of fear. We refuse to "get naked" and show others our authentic selves because god forbid someone may not like us or accept us as their own. I know because I live in this fear, and on the flip side I also cast the very judgments that create that fear, its a viscous cycle, and an awful way to live, but that's what we are used to , walking on eggshells as to not disturb the society around us and perhaps draw the eyes of judgmental spectators. And when we are judged we have the nerve to take it personal, rather then shaking it off and understanding that the person who cast the judgments are in the wrong, we accept their condemnation as reality. We mistake our thoughts and feelings for reality, when in REALITY they can always be changed, we just need to stay mindful of this and recognize when we are fearful so we can change our perceptions.
I am in no way attempting to step up onto a soap box, I only express this because I am sick of living this way, and I am sick of watching others around me leave for the streets, die, or live in fear because we fail to recognize the power we have over our on lives, over our own realities.
In this microcosm of a world little issues run riot, and if this is any indication of where the world "outside" is headed, then buckle your seat belts because the whole human race is in deep s***.
Before I tell you Jerry's latest, let me tell you about another character that is vital in the Jerry stories, for this character , Tommy, is Jerry's Nemesis. Tommy the cook, and former client, could be a whole story in itself. Tommy is the "kitchen Nazi", a man who treats the meal plan as if the budget is based on what he has in his pocket, a tight ass if you will. If its not on the menu its doesn't come out of the kitchen, rather it just gets thrown out when it sits there long enough to grow mold, or any other bacteria that is manifested in expired perishables, and let me assure you I am positive there are bacteria in that kitchen that are not yet known to modern science. When you ask Tommy for , lets say hot sauce, his reply is " its not on the menu, accept it" and when you attempt to explain that something, anything is needed to add flavor to his bland , over cooked food, he replies "dis is terapy" in a Jamaican accent, hes from somewhere non-domestic. Its like a mix between Jamaican and Mexican, I cant quite put my finger on it, nor do I want to , I have no desire whatsoever to understand what type of place breeds his kind. And oh yeah I forgot, he spent all of his money on a expensive SUV that has been converted to a mobile home, and everyone in the house is suspicious of an overly intimate relationship with his daughter, but we will leave that up to the gossip to take care of.
Back to Jerry.
Last night we had, as we do every Monday, "Chicken Fried Steak" which coincidentally is the same thing we have for Sunday lunch, only on Sunday its called a "chicken patty", where the reason for this was created I have no idea, and like Tommy's country of origin i really have no desire to inquire. Well when Jerry went through the line, he supposedly received less mash potatoes then the fellow family member before him. Jerry wasn't happy with this, and Jerry was determined to let everyone know, to the outside observer it would appear he just wanted what was owed to him, but I know Jerry, and Jerry likes opportunities like this to cause a wake throughout the house. Jerry proceeded to throw a tantrum in the middle of the line holding everyone up that was waiting for their wonderful chicken patty, I mean chicken fried steak. Saying things like "are you f****** with me, really? this is how you treat people? do you want me to cause a scene (to late for that)?" Jerry then marched off as a two year old would after he was unable to attain the final chocolate chip cookie before his brother swooped in like a raven to scoop it out of his grasp. It didn't stop with his sitting at the table, Jerry then decided that it would be appropriate to spat profanities with a mouth full of his food at his plate as he ate, as if it were the foods fault for not landing on his plate in the superfluous manner he would have preferred.
In reality people want Jerry gone, and they do things like this so he blows a gasket and leaves, but unfortunately for everyone present Jerry refuses to leave. Jerry has nowhere to go, Jerry is the type of person that collects cans, and scares the shit out of you when you are standing at your car putting away groceries when offers to take your shopping cart back to the docking station for a quarter, this is the type of life Jerry lives, and even Jerry is smart enough to realize that where he is now is a better place then where he was, even if he doesn't get the amount of mash potatoes that would be just.
I have attempted to talk to Jerry, unlike others I have no desire to force him out, if he is going to go then fine, but I will not be the one to force someone back into in a life on the streets, I have been there, I have no desire to go back. Just the other day I pointed out to Jerry that it is obvious that people want him gone, he made it that way, he forced people to act in this manner, but it doesn't mean he cant change it, just because things are the way they are doesn't mean they should be. Jerry takes everything personal, and refuses to leave a grudge where it belongs, in the past. When someone has wronged Jerry he gives them a stare every time he encounters his antagonize, a stare that could cut through steel, a stare that suggest something very violent in the near future. I sincerely told Jerry that he must begin to worry about himself and not buy into what the others are trying to sell him, a one way ticket back to the drug life.
I think everyone could apply this to their lives, people walk around self-conscious always worrying about what others will think , whether or not they will be accepted...myself included. Our way of life is practically shaped by these fears, how we dress, how we present ourselves, how we act in the presence of strangers, its all out of fear. We refuse to "get naked" and show others our authentic selves because god forbid someone may not like us or accept us as their own. I know because I live in this fear, and on the flip side I also cast the very judgments that create that fear, its a viscous cycle, and an awful way to live, but that's what we are used to , walking on eggshells as to not disturb the society around us and perhaps draw the eyes of judgmental spectators. And when we are judged we have the nerve to take it personal, rather then shaking it off and understanding that the person who cast the judgments are in the wrong, we accept their condemnation as reality. We mistake our thoughts and feelings for reality, when in REALITY they can always be changed, we just need to stay mindful of this and recognize when we are fearful so we can change our perceptions.
I am in no way attempting to step up onto a soap box, I only express this because I am sick of living this way, and I am sick of watching others around me leave for the streets, die, or live in fear because we fail to recognize the power we have over our on lives, over our own realities.
Monday, January 18, 2010
shaping up to be pretty odd
Well this is day 100 and something, I lost count a long time ago when my days so conveniently started to mesh together. Probably to prevent any sort of panic on my part, when I attempt to retrace the days. I am in rehab, and although I do have to be here some of the things that go on just aren't ...well sane. This is a crazy way to live, 40 men in a house , 40 crazy men and no way to relieve stress other then "sharing your feelings", which needless to say doesn't come natural for us men.
I will change names to prevent any confidentiality conflict, and bring you up to date on the current goings on in the house. As of right now we will make Jerry the topic of discussion. Let me tell you about Jerry. Jerry is crazy, and I don't mean the cool kind of crazy, I mean the type of crazy that makes you wonder "how on earth has this person survived this long in the human race, he must be a mutant, he must have lived in a cave or in an alley (bingo!) for his entire 40 years on this planet". Jerry causes a lot of anger and confusion to come out amongst the other (family members), he does things that no human being, even animal, should ever do. Just the other day Jerry came strolling out of the shower buck naked down the halls, now to most of the parolee family members this is no big deal, not when you have been to prison and poop in front of people while they eat their ramen noodles on their bed less then a foot away from the spoon that is entering your "cellies" mouth, but to me this is repulsive. But the nakedness wasn't even the worst part, whats the worst part you may ask? let me tell you...
Jerry proceeded to move around the house and ask family members for any powder or cream he may be able to borrow for whatever godforsaken rash he has between his legs. When he came knocking on my door I couldn't help but look down and realize that the man was pant less, not just pant less but had on socks and dress shoes, so there was some attempt there to dress himself. Maybe, i thought, he got the socks and shoes on and then realized , while tying his shoes, that he had a rash between his legs. Which then exudes the question why on earth had Jerry put on dress shoes before his pants? No sane answer is avaialbe for such caveman-like actions.
See Jerry is the type of guy that does this stuff to get under others skin, he wants a rise, he wants attention, and Jerry loves it when he gets that attention. Jerry never got his powder or cream , all Jerry got was a barrage of slanderous terms not suitable for this blog.
Jerry I am sure will be the topic of discussion for quite a few days, I have much more to tell about the bullfrog Jerry , and his antics that cease to amaze even the most traveled of humans.
Until Tomorrow...keep your heads up, life isn't as bad as mine right now.
I will change names to prevent any confidentiality conflict, and bring you up to date on the current goings on in the house. As of right now we will make Jerry the topic of discussion. Let me tell you about Jerry. Jerry is crazy, and I don't mean the cool kind of crazy, I mean the type of crazy that makes you wonder "how on earth has this person survived this long in the human race, he must be a mutant, he must have lived in a cave or in an alley (bingo!) for his entire 40 years on this planet". Jerry causes a lot of anger and confusion to come out amongst the other (family members), he does things that no human being, even animal, should ever do. Just the other day Jerry came strolling out of the shower buck naked down the halls, now to most of the parolee family members this is no big deal, not when you have been to prison and poop in front of people while they eat their ramen noodles on their bed less then a foot away from the spoon that is entering your "cellies" mouth, but to me this is repulsive. But the nakedness wasn't even the worst part, whats the worst part you may ask? let me tell you...
Jerry proceeded to move around the house and ask family members for any powder or cream he may be able to borrow for whatever godforsaken rash he has between his legs. When he came knocking on my door I couldn't help but look down and realize that the man was pant less, not just pant less but had on socks and dress shoes, so there was some attempt there to dress himself. Maybe, i thought, he got the socks and shoes on and then realized , while tying his shoes, that he had a rash between his legs. Which then exudes the question why on earth had Jerry put on dress shoes before his pants? No sane answer is avaialbe for such caveman-like actions.
See Jerry is the type of guy that does this stuff to get under others skin, he wants a rise, he wants attention, and Jerry loves it when he gets that attention. Jerry never got his powder or cream , all Jerry got was a barrage of slanderous terms not suitable for this blog.
Jerry I am sure will be the topic of discussion for quite a few days, I have much more to tell about the bullfrog Jerry , and his antics that cease to amaze even the most traveled of humans.
Until Tomorrow...keep your heads up, life isn't as bad as mine right now.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)