My very own blog, a self-indulgent bit of hopefully interesting stuff. Why write at all? It's easier than trying to keep a paper-based diary and I should write some of this down because it's cathartic. My anxiety keeps me thinking 24/7 anyway so I might as well let it out rather than have it stew away inside.
I am crazy; diagnosis and everything. No meds at the moment because if I keep driving, literally, and ignoring what I've ignored for more than 20 years, I won't be any worse off than I already am. I could be better, perhaps, but I know the Me of today. Do I need to change for the better? Whose better? I knew there was something vitally wrong with me years ago but it's only hurt me (or so I'd like to believe anyway) or is that hurt only me (there is a difference) and just having some "educated" people reinforce my self-diagnosis with their own is not cause for celebration, just relief.
Am I happy? WTF is happy, anyway? Seriously. In case it's not immediately obvious, this is the way I think--free association. If I have a point, I'll make it eventually, not to worry. Tangents are my best friends; hell, my only friends. Therein lies another point I'll address eventually. Are any of you happy? How do you know? Is there a checklist or is it simply an attitude? Do you realize the moment you're not happy anymore? How long does that last or does it fade and then you're happy again?
Is there a difference between happy and satisfied? Do you need both to be either? Is it hard work or does it just happen? Are you aware of it when it changes or is it more subtle?
Have I mentioned that I LOVE words?!? George Carlin was so very, very precise with his choice of vocabulary; don't think he was appreciated very much for that. It saddens me to see how poorly people treat words: use the same ones over and over, ad nauseum; misspell or reduce them to single letters; incomplete sentences with little to no point and/or punctuation. See what 12 years of free education can do for you! It's tragic, actually. We're going to hell in a handbasket and no one even knows what that is.
Of course, I don't believe in an actual hell. Do I really think that there's some entity---pick a name, any name, it doesn't matter---who is deciding my eternal fate based upon some arbitrary rules? Of course not. What's even more ridiculous is the notion that I can get a pass for whatever egregrious deed I've done (or not done) simply by saying I'm sorry. Yeah, right. As if said deity doesn't (or shouldn't) have something better to do with his/her/its time. I'm saddened by all the terrible things that have been done in said D's name(s) by all the two-faced, shit-for-brains numbnuts who feel superior simply because they follow someone else's lead. Why not think for yourselves?? Is it too hard? Too much work? Too scary a thought? *the irony* The best part is that if you do not believe as they do, you're a wretched sinner and going straight to perdition. How do they know? Oh, right, it says so in their book; oops, Book. My book says something else; it says that to each his own, live as though you mean to be alive, treat others with compassion, consideration and kindness, be honest and fair. What else do you need to know? Truly? Seems almost too obvious and easy, doesn't it? Hmmmmm...time for dinner.
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