Friday, January 25, 2013

I Could Not Stop Crying

At these thoughts:  my fellow man has given me these gifts:  The decision whether or not to suffer is mine alone.  Now, no one is king of the world and can perfectly arrange circumstances so that one face suffering and another not, therefore no one is exempt from what one doesn't deserve, pain, injustice, et cetera.  People, however, often just by exercising their free will and operating in their own self-interest, generally treat one another fairly as best they can, so things more or less work out.  And this is what people judged me worthy of:  comfort, happiness, and contentment.  They did so consciously, and with the utmost freedom to choose otherwise for me.  This is the greatest gift I have ever received, on par with the unconditional love my parents feel towards me, a gift I was born with and one I hope I pay forward to all beings.  My heart swells with gratitude.  Another gift -- this one gives me some sorrow -- is that others have sacrificed and died so that I might have any life I choose, and may do with it whatever I please.  I pray that all who have gone before me know paradise, and am comforted that any who disrespect that sacred gift will get what they deserve.  One I always enjoy, and have since childhood, is the ability to see the beauty in every iota of perception.  I'm privy to the coolest shit on Earth.  The last is less a gift than a burden, but a sterling honor nonetheless, and it is this:  my happiness has been hell for those who deserve such.  I am not a gloater, and can't lord anything over any one.  But it's an awfully important duty in the scheme of things.

These treasures were awarded me despite my greatest sins:  failing to place enough faith in people, and inducing my own suffering despite the fact that those who wanted me to be content and well deserved to see me so.  I have also been remiss as I have not taken refuge in the sangha as I say I will every Sunday morning -- may I have time enough to do better.  I beg forgiveness, and pledge the following as a token of thankfulness:  I will pursue my destiny with diligence and self-compassion, I will make better choices for myself, and will present the most authentic me I can to everyone I meet.  My loved ones look me in the eye.  They tell me to my face what they think of me.  Moreover, I'm aware of what's said behind my back. May I ever keep these gifts in mind.

I crave everyone's indulgence, however:  I must continue living moment to moment, one foot in front of the other, because unfortunately none of the abovementioned blessings are guarantees of a tomorrow.  My karma is my karma, and I may yet face the ultimately unbearable -- who can know?  But even if I have days when I have to fake it, I promise to fake it really well.

Sunday, January 13, 2013

Any Guesses What I Am?

Hints:  Mesomorph, plenty of junk in the trunk.  Big eyes, full lips.  Inclined not to pry, but everyone spills their guts to me anyway.  Well liked by most everyone except, well, they know who they are.  Children and animals attracted to me.  Rather passive, not prone to anger.  Lazy, gluttonous, lustful.  Am potentially more destructive and toxic than anyone else you know in personal relationships, but have a small social circle of intensely loyal, long-term friends.  Sociable, but not an attention whore.  Insufferable and obnoxious to myself, and to certain others who, well, again, they might know who they are -- considered extremely sweet and good by most others, and welcomed and wanted around by them.  Gratification schemes usually focus on sex, sensual comforts, food, and music.  Absolute poison to sadists, violent psychopaths.  Glancingly fascinating to or ignored by most sociopaths.  Tend to internalize abuse.  Physical pain is richly and acutely felt, but emotional pain is more traumatic and long-lasting.  Can cope with own physical injury, squeamish about those of others.  Pleasure-seeking.  Highly observant.  Diffucult to control, but inclined to get walked all over.  Emotionally sensitive and intelligent, with good realization skills, but congenitally incapable of manipulation, scheming, calculation or cunning.  Outsized conscience, small ego.  Capacity for self-destructiveness enormous, intensely averse to harming others.  Hint:  I'm actually a variety of psychopath.

Friday, January 11, 2013

7 Things OF WHICH All Americans Should Disapprove

Just putting this out there.  I was an ardent Obama supporter, and voted him in for his second term (I mean, our only alternative are Tea Party nutcases from the Land of Utter Delusion.)  I couldn't find much to disagree with in this list, and I think it's worth pondering and promulgating:

Thursday, January 10, 2013

So What The Fuck You Want, Bitch?

I've got to say, I'm grateful yet harried and stressed that I've been rescued from a vast right-wing conspiracy against my life.  It's so damning because I'm such a fucking nobody.  I mean, I author a smart-ass left-wing blog in my late 20s, during the heydey of the Bush Administration, and I might end up another Tutu or Kennedy if I'm unlucky, and what happens?  I get flagged.  As soon as enough years pass by with enough bullshit in the interim, I'm deemed disposable and can be shot by a fucking dickwad.  What the hell?  It's awful on my neighbors and friends and family, and it should be the last thing my erstwhile political opponents want, but it gets planned anyway.  From Jonny E. to Arizona plates on Jeep Cherokees, from stagecraft and Rove playbook to methamphetamine to psy-ops, I'm frankly flummoxed.  It's just too much.  You'd think I was King of the World, the way I've been mistreated.

Sorry, folks, I can't handle being the center of attention.  I'm fine being schizoaffective and bipolar with a chip in my head.  Who needs all the other drama?  Who the fuck works someone's mind as they're killing them?  Who on earth faces such a death?  I tell you, I could just drown myself in the toilet...

Alas, alack, and fuck our luck, really good people have done their damnedest to save my life.  I must do my best and abide, and hope it doesn't blow up in our faces.

And you thought you were paranoid.