Two words that don't belong in the same sentence; happiness and heartache. The words bring different memories for different people. Some of it laughing, some of it crying. One we seek, the other we avoid. And sometimes we risk one for the other, or should I say despite?
In the end, we will all have experienced heartache, our efforts to avoid it futile. Some of us will have experienced happiness, regardless of how hard we work for it. The ability to describe either escapes us.
But it is an illusion. Happiness and heartache are the same thing. They are both part of living, and one cannot exist without the other. So, sit back and enjoy what you've got. There's nothing you can do to change it. Just relax and enjoy the ride.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Sunday, January 6, 2008
History, Part II
It's the summer of 98. I'm 18 years old. I'm on I-5 heading north to Seattle to see my brother. It's a gorgeous day. The sun is shining, nothing but blue skies. The river beside me, the sun flashing off its waves. The beautiful curves of I-5 in front of me. Everything is so perfect, but inside I am running. Running away from the home I grew up in. I'm doing 120mph in my Honda Civic, weaving between traffic. I'm in the zone. I never tap the brakes, never slow down. All I can feel is freedom as my Civic blows down I-5. I pass between a semi and another car with barely enough room to clear both ends of my car. I know my car well. I've done this before.
I can feel the engine screaming as I hit the governor's top speed. I want to go faster but I can't. I feel frustrated. I feel so free. I want to be in this moment forever, but all I've got is 4 hours.
As I drive there are some that try to race me. There's always someone in the crowd of cars that thinks they can keep up. My car may not be a race car, but I know it like the back of my hand. I know exactly where its limits are and what its size is. Most of them fall behind because they are too afraid. But I've got nothing to be afraid of. My life has been nothing but pain and misery, survival. No one can take this freedom from me, I won't let them. I don't think I'm going to die, but neither does the thought particularly scare me. When you worry about such things, you hesitate. Hesitation will lead to a fuck up, and you'll go off the road.
Some other day, a day not quite so beautiful, the roads just starting to dry after a slight drizzle, I come across an Acura. I'm doing 90, she's doing 80. As I pass I look in through the passenger side window and get a glimpse of a very cute blonde girl. Our eyes lock for a moment, but I keep going, and I forget about her. Just another driver I'm passing on my way to Seattle.
About 60 seconds later I'm checking my mirrors and blind spots for cars, and I notice the silver Acura behind me. We are both cruising at 90. I think nothing of it, she's just following the holes I punch in traffic. But I speed up. I don't like people drafting me. I hit 100, and she is still there. I hit 110, and she is still there. I hit 120, top speed for my car, and she is still there. She's right behind me the whole way. I smile. Someone who can keep up with me? We'll see about that. I tap my brakes to make her hesitate and break right two lanes. She breaks left into the carpool lane. Cheater. I swerve in and out of traffic, cars flashing by me like they are a white picket fence. We watch each other, which is dangerous. If you aren't watching the road. you could fuck up. But we are still watching each other. Glances, mere seconds, but we are definitely watching each other. We pull into a clear stretch between wolf packs (a wolf pack is a group of cars) and pull up beside each other. We take a good long look at each other. There's another wolf pack just ahead, and neither of us are backing off. This time, though, there is no carpool lane. I smile, because this time I'll surely lose her.
She taps her brakes and falls in behind me. Again, cheater. She's going to draft me through this pack. We come up on the tail end of them and I start looking for my holes. They open up for me like I was making it happen, and I sneak through. I wish I could see the looks on peoples faces when a red Honda Civic and a Silver Acura blaze past them doing 120, swerving between cars as if it was an obstacle course. I want to lose her, to make her do her own work, but she has other ideas, and right now isn't exactly the time to be playing games. I let her draft me through the pack until we hit the next clear stretch of highway.
I change lanes and tap the brakes so we come up next to each other. I nod my head in approval and mouth the words "Your turn". She smiles, and I fall in behind her. I'm putting my life in someone else's hands. If she fucks up, we both go down.
We hit the next pack and she is stunning. Never taps her breaks, always using her blinker, she slides through the pack like a gorgeous woman between silk sheets. She finds a closing hole and breaks for it, I'm not sure if she is trying to lose me but I keep up. I squeeze through, imagining what the sound would be like if I touched either bumper to a car. We break from the pack finally.
We pull up beside each other and I wave my cell phone at her, hoping to get her number. Any woman that can drive like me is a woman I want to know better. She laughs. Maybe because I'm hitting on her, maybe because she doesn't have a cell phone. I mouth "follow me" to her and pull in front. I break to the right-most lane and see signs for a gas station. I start slowing down and take the exit. She keeps on going.
I'm sad. But what the hell, I needed gas anyway.
I can feel the engine screaming as I hit the governor's top speed. I want to go faster but I can't. I feel frustrated. I feel so free. I want to be in this moment forever, but all I've got is 4 hours.
As I drive there are some that try to race me. There's always someone in the crowd of cars that thinks they can keep up. My car may not be a race car, but I know it like the back of my hand. I know exactly where its limits are and what its size is. Most of them fall behind because they are too afraid. But I've got nothing to be afraid of. My life has been nothing but pain and misery, survival. No one can take this freedom from me, I won't let them. I don't think I'm going to die, but neither does the thought particularly scare me. When you worry about such things, you hesitate. Hesitation will lead to a fuck up, and you'll go off the road.
Some other day, a day not quite so beautiful, the roads just starting to dry after a slight drizzle, I come across an Acura. I'm doing 90, she's doing 80. As I pass I look in through the passenger side window and get a glimpse of a very cute blonde girl. Our eyes lock for a moment, but I keep going, and I forget about her. Just another driver I'm passing on my way to Seattle.
About 60 seconds later I'm checking my mirrors and blind spots for cars, and I notice the silver Acura behind me. We are both cruising at 90. I think nothing of it, she's just following the holes I punch in traffic. But I speed up. I don't like people drafting me. I hit 100, and she is still there. I hit 110, and she is still there. I hit 120, top speed for my car, and she is still there. She's right behind me the whole way. I smile. Someone who can keep up with me? We'll see about that. I tap my brakes to make her hesitate and break right two lanes. She breaks left into the carpool lane. Cheater. I swerve in and out of traffic, cars flashing by me like they are a white picket fence. We watch each other, which is dangerous. If you aren't watching the road. you could fuck up. But we are still watching each other. Glances, mere seconds, but we are definitely watching each other. We pull into a clear stretch between wolf packs (a wolf pack is a group of cars) and pull up beside each other. We take a good long look at each other. There's another wolf pack just ahead, and neither of us are backing off. This time, though, there is no carpool lane. I smile, because this time I'll surely lose her.
She taps her brakes and falls in behind me. Again, cheater. She's going to draft me through this pack. We come up on the tail end of them and I start looking for my holes. They open up for me like I was making it happen, and I sneak through. I wish I could see the looks on peoples faces when a red Honda Civic and a Silver Acura blaze past them doing 120, swerving between cars as if it was an obstacle course. I want to lose her, to make her do her own work, but she has other ideas, and right now isn't exactly the time to be playing games. I let her draft me through the pack until we hit the next clear stretch of highway.
I change lanes and tap the brakes so we come up next to each other. I nod my head in approval and mouth the words "Your turn". She smiles, and I fall in behind her. I'm putting my life in someone else's hands. If she fucks up, we both go down.
We hit the next pack and she is stunning. Never taps her breaks, always using her blinker, she slides through the pack like a gorgeous woman between silk sheets. She finds a closing hole and breaks for it, I'm not sure if she is trying to lose me but I keep up. I squeeze through, imagining what the sound would be like if I touched either bumper to a car. We break from the pack finally.
We pull up beside each other and I wave my cell phone at her, hoping to get her number. Any woman that can drive like me is a woman I want to know better. She laughs. Maybe because I'm hitting on her, maybe because she doesn't have a cell phone. I mouth "follow me" to her and pull in front. I break to the right-most lane and see signs for a gas station. I start slowing down and take the exit. She keeps on going.
I'm sad. But what the hell, I needed gas anyway.
Friday, January 4, 2008
Women
I've decided that I hate the dating scene. When you are a shy introvert, it is extremely hard to find a girl, and when you do, chances are that you are not going to be compatible. It is a numbers game that requires one to try and try again. And for me, it's even harder because I'm used to getting what I want when I want it. When I want to advance in my career, I do. When I want a new car, I get one. When I want that new electronic gadget, I get it.
But that methodology doesn't work with women. First, women are not objects (nor do they come with a manual or financing, though you may need the latter). Second, they are complex. Third, they have a history (just like everyone else) which contains various amounts of baggage. Fourth, they may or may not be crazy. Fifth, they may not be straightforward (i.e. like to play games).
So what am I supposed to do? I've got no idea. At this point my options are online dating or the club/bar scene. I hate the club/bar scene. Well, I do like to dance so I'm referring to the pickup portion of the scene. It's too easy to be fake or play games and there is a ton of competition.
I also can't stand rejection. It's another thing I'm not used to. I'm use to be accepted immediately. And there is going to be rejection. And sometimes it won't be a nice rejection, it'll be a "get out of my face" type rejection.
Men take all the risk when it comes down to it. We are the ones who have to make the first move, we are the ones that have to be suave and dressed well. We are the ones that have to deal with the word no. Girls have to sit there and listen to us and make a decision yes or no while we market ourselves to them.
I wish there was a service that I could sign up for. They'd give you a battery of psychological and physical tests and come up with a score. This score would be used to perfectly match you up with the girl of your dreams. P.S. I hate eharmony.com
When it comes down to it though you have no choice. There will be games. There will be fakes. There will be crazies. There will be heartbreak. There's nothing that can be done about it. So I'll soldier on. I'll continue trying match.com and sites like it. I'll continue buying clubbing clothes and going to clubs and trying to pick up on girls.
But that methodology doesn't work with women. First, women are not objects (nor do they come with a manual or financing, though you may need the latter). Second, they are complex. Third, they have a history (just like everyone else) which contains various amounts of baggage. Fourth, they may or may not be crazy. Fifth, they may not be straightforward (i.e. like to play games).
So what am I supposed to do? I've got no idea. At this point my options are online dating or the club/bar scene. I hate the club/bar scene. Well, I do like to dance so I'm referring to the pickup portion of the scene. It's too easy to be fake or play games and there is a ton of competition.
I also can't stand rejection. It's another thing I'm not used to. I'm use to be accepted immediately. And there is going to be rejection. And sometimes it won't be a nice rejection, it'll be a "get out of my face" type rejection.
Men take all the risk when it comes down to it. We are the ones who have to make the first move, we are the ones that have to be suave and dressed well. We are the ones that have to deal with the word no. Girls have to sit there and listen to us and make a decision yes or no while we market ourselves to them.
I wish there was a service that I could sign up for. They'd give you a battery of psychological and physical tests and come up with a score. This score would be used to perfectly match you up with the girl of your dreams. P.S. I hate eharmony.com
When it comes down to it though you have no choice. There will be games. There will be fakes. There will be crazies. There will be heartbreak. There's nothing that can be done about it. So I'll soldier on. I'll continue trying match.com and sites like it. I'll continue buying clubbing clothes and going to clubs and trying to pick up on girls.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
History
I was raised in a broken family. Very broken. Neither of my parents were alcoholics, but one was very abusive and the other one had no idea how to raise a child. I'd leave home with broken parents, then go to school and get the living shit beat out of me. My so called friends just made it worse, torturing me more after school. I'd come home, with no one to console me or protect me or give me advice, and I'd repeat the cycle over again. I did this for 18 years. And I was alone.
As soon as I hit 18 I moved out to Seattle. The one thing that kept me sane while living at home was the promise that I could normalize my life once I moved out of that hell hole. But it wasn't true. I was raised under a certain paradym and that paradym followed me. No experience with healthy relationships or girls, I did the best I could. I stuck with computers, the only solace I'd ever had, and begain to build a career off work that I had started when I was 16. But I did not have healthy relationships with anyone. I was still alone.
I told myself while I did this work that everything would just become normal, that I wouldn't have to do anything to make it that way. I started partying. An online friend introduced me to raves. For a few years I went to raves and got so fucked up on drugs I typically didn't remember what had happened the night before or where I was when I woke up. Somehow, my car was always with me, implying that while under the influence of multiple drugs I drove my car and never got caught. This continued for about 3 years. I met my first real girlfriend while I did this, but she never did as many drugs as I did. At the time I knew she loved me, but when I look back I have no idea why. Perhaps it was just young innocence, perhaps ignorance, perhaps some combination of both.
I would go to parties and do drugs that made it hard to sleep, then I would go to work the next day stoned off my ass trying to cover the come-down of the drugs I had done the night before. Even though my manager never said anything direct about it, he hinted enough for me to understand that he knew.
Before I had the girlfriend, during and after, I was still alone. Something inside me was broken. I was unable to connect with anyone. I was unable to let down my defenses enough for someone to get inside. I never made myself vulnerable. But at the time, nothing really mattered. All I cared about was my career, video games, and getting fucked up. It was my life.
One day it all came crashing down. My girlfriend and I had moved to the Portland, OR area for a new job. I soon lost my job because I was too fucked up to do work and didn't show up for three days. I had $5000 worth of computer equipment in the trunk of my car. They had to have the cops come out and get it from me.
I was strung out after being up for multiple days of drugging and partying. There were squatters living in my house despite my requests for them to leave. I fell apart. I fell into my bed one day and I was changed forever. I was so desolate and destroyed that I couldn't move. My girlfriend at the time couldn't even look at me. She focused on how we were going to get through this and ignored what I was going through. I was empty inside, I was destroyed. All the illusions I had of living a normal life had been destroyed and I had lost the thing most precious to me at the time; my career. And it was all my fault. I could not blame anyone else for what had happened.
I continued on the track of drug abuse though. I came into contact with a drug dealer known only as "Rocky" who would supply me with drugs to sell at raves. I spent the next few months dealing drugs. Why my girlfriend never protested I am not sure. I was surely throwing my life away. I would sneak huge amounts of drugs into raves when active duty cops stood nearby. If any of them had discovered my stash, I would have gone to jail. But I made a lot of money and we got by for a time.
Then I started doing lot of the drugs that were given to me. $1800 worth of drugs got snorted into my body and my girlfriends, and a friend screwed me over for $500 worth so he could get laid by two girls. I was in debt for $2300 worth of drugs to a man who was not a fool. He came by the house one day, unannounced. I never told him where I lived. How he found out I don't know. But he stopped by and demanded to see what was left of what I had to sell. I showed him, and I assured him that I had enough left to pay off what he had given me thus far. He left, but I knew he was not happy with what he had seen.
Slowly my drug abuse increased from there. I started doing more of my product than before and was soon unable to repay my debt to my dealer. He kept fronting me drugs so I could make up the debt, but I just kept doing them and only selling the rest as a cursory gesture. I became suicidal and faced my darkest days. I was so strung out I couldn't think. All I wanted was my next hit. I began to wish for death. The only thing that would make me happy was drugs, and I was out. There was no way to get anymore. My dealer had cut me off and I had no other income to buy more.
I told my girlfriend of my feelings of suicide. She saved me by having her family move us back to Seattle and to sober up. It didn't take me long to find a job using my previous contacts. I was good at what I did and they remembered me for it. But when I showed up on the job, something had changed. I was not the same man I was before. I wasn't willing, perhaps not even able, to perform at the same level as before.
Eventually my girlfriend left me. My cries of grief were so loud that my roomies could not ignore it. They asked me to quiet down, they gave me alcohol, but nothing helped. For 6 hours I screamed at the pain I was in. There was no hiding from it, no one to console me. No solace. While I didn't collapse and feel desolate like before, I was still destroyed. She had been my life.
Just before she broke up with me, I had just landed my highest paying gig. I wasn't going to lose it this time. I did the best I could and soon raised to the top ranks of the team I was apart of. I recieved kudos from multiple portions of management for doing such a great job. I held that job down for two years as a contractor, then finally was finally let go because I started talking about unionizing the work force. We had been promised permanent positions after 6 months. After two years I had had enough.
I was burnt out at that point. I couldn't handle any more telephone technical support. It was killing me. I spent about 8 months on unemployment getting high and drunk and playing computer games. It was just after 9/11 so it was easy to hide. Tech workers across the region had been let go and we were all having a hard time finding a new job. The only difference is that I wasn't actually looking.
After 8 months I contacted and friend and told him I was looking for a job, and that I just couldn't go back to telephone technical support. He said he had an opportunity but that it wouldn't be easy getting it for me. I worked my ass to get it and then more so trying to keep up but in the end my alcoholism destroyed that opportunity. I wasn't able to stay sober. They even had beer available on the premises. I would drink all the time.
I left that job and stayed and moved back in with my parents for a time. It was horrible, because nothing had changed. They were still the same people they had been before, and I felt myself turning back into the person I had spent so much time trying to leave behind. After about a year I finally landed Desktop Support position in Seattle and moved out as fast as I could. I impressed management there enough that they hired me permanently as a Systems Administrator. Even though I didn't know much about the technology I supported, I studied and quickly became one of the leading administrators at the company. I had a senior that walked out on the company, and multiple business critical jobs fell on my shoulders. While I knew the technology to some degree, I was not a senior level administrator. But it fell to me, so I studied and I learned and I filled the position as best I could. I was credited with pulling two business critical projects out of the toilet and making them successful. By that time though, I was so stressed out I had to leave the company. I still have a standing offer with them to come back if/when I am ready.
Once I left there I used my new found skills and abilities to land a much more prestigious position with Microsoft working with the best in the world with cutting edge technologies. It wasn't long after I started working there that I was diagnosed with bi-polar II, ADD, and social anxiety disorder. I was started on a drug regiment that ended up changing my life. Suddenly, I wasn't depressed any more and social situations weren't so intimidating. So I started looking for new friends and decided I wanted a girlfriend.
That's where I am today. It's been a long, very hard and very lonely road. I still have trouble being vulnerable and trusting people, and I have no idea what it means to care for someone or to have someone care for you. The kindness of my first girlfriend had been all but forgotten. In the last 10 months I've been given a new lease on life, and it's hard to get used to the dramatic changes. You develop a lot of defenses coming up from where I was and living with an undiagnosed mental condition for the first 27 years of your life. You don't recover from it overnight.
So, I toil. I work hard to overcome my new challenges and it's the hardest thing I've ever done before. I am used to excelling at what I put my mind to, but this is not something linear thought can resolve. I have to learn a new way to think and feel, and I have to do it soon. If I don't, I am afraid that I will be alone for the rest of my life.
As soon as I hit 18 I moved out to Seattle. The one thing that kept me sane while living at home was the promise that I could normalize my life once I moved out of that hell hole. But it wasn't true. I was raised under a certain paradym and that paradym followed me. No experience with healthy relationships or girls, I did the best I could. I stuck with computers, the only solace I'd ever had, and begain to build a career off work that I had started when I was 16. But I did not have healthy relationships with anyone. I was still alone.
I told myself while I did this work that everything would just become normal, that I wouldn't have to do anything to make it that way. I started partying. An online friend introduced me to raves. For a few years I went to raves and got so fucked up on drugs I typically didn't remember what had happened the night before or where I was when I woke up. Somehow, my car was always with me, implying that while under the influence of multiple drugs I drove my car and never got caught. This continued for about 3 years. I met my first real girlfriend while I did this, but she never did as many drugs as I did. At the time I knew she loved me, but when I look back I have no idea why. Perhaps it was just young innocence, perhaps ignorance, perhaps some combination of both.
I would go to parties and do drugs that made it hard to sleep, then I would go to work the next day stoned off my ass trying to cover the come-down of the drugs I had done the night before. Even though my manager never said anything direct about it, he hinted enough for me to understand that he knew.
Before I had the girlfriend, during and after, I was still alone. Something inside me was broken. I was unable to connect with anyone. I was unable to let down my defenses enough for someone to get inside. I never made myself vulnerable. But at the time, nothing really mattered. All I cared about was my career, video games, and getting fucked up. It was my life.
One day it all came crashing down. My girlfriend and I had moved to the Portland, OR area for a new job. I soon lost my job because I was too fucked up to do work and didn't show up for three days. I had $5000 worth of computer equipment in the trunk of my car. They had to have the cops come out and get it from me.
I was strung out after being up for multiple days of drugging and partying. There were squatters living in my house despite my requests for them to leave. I fell apart. I fell into my bed one day and I was changed forever. I was so desolate and destroyed that I couldn't move. My girlfriend at the time couldn't even look at me. She focused on how we were going to get through this and ignored what I was going through. I was empty inside, I was destroyed. All the illusions I had of living a normal life had been destroyed and I had lost the thing most precious to me at the time; my career. And it was all my fault. I could not blame anyone else for what had happened.
I continued on the track of drug abuse though. I came into contact with a drug dealer known only as "Rocky" who would supply me with drugs to sell at raves. I spent the next few months dealing drugs. Why my girlfriend never protested I am not sure. I was surely throwing my life away. I would sneak huge amounts of drugs into raves when active duty cops stood nearby. If any of them had discovered my stash, I would have gone to jail. But I made a lot of money and we got by for a time.
Then I started doing lot of the drugs that were given to me. $1800 worth of drugs got snorted into my body and my girlfriends, and a friend screwed me over for $500 worth so he could get laid by two girls. I was in debt for $2300 worth of drugs to a man who was not a fool. He came by the house one day, unannounced. I never told him where I lived. How he found out I don't know. But he stopped by and demanded to see what was left of what I had to sell. I showed him, and I assured him that I had enough left to pay off what he had given me thus far. He left, but I knew he was not happy with what he had seen.
Slowly my drug abuse increased from there. I started doing more of my product than before and was soon unable to repay my debt to my dealer. He kept fronting me drugs so I could make up the debt, but I just kept doing them and only selling the rest as a cursory gesture. I became suicidal and faced my darkest days. I was so strung out I couldn't think. All I wanted was my next hit. I began to wish for death. The only thing that would make me happy was drugs, and I was out. There was no way to get anymore. My dealer had cut me off and I had no other income to buy more.
I told my girlfriend of my feelings of suicide. She saved me by having her family move us back to Seattle and to sober up. It didn't take me long to find a job using my previous contacts. I was good at what I did and they remembered me for it. But when I showed up on the job, something had changed. I was not the same man I was before. I wasn't willing, perhaps not even able, to perform at the same level as before.
Eventually my girlfriend left me. My cries of grief were so loud that my roomies could not ignore it. They asked me to quiet down, they gave me alcohol, but nothing helped. For 6 hours I screamed at the pain I was in. There was no hiding from it, no one to console me. No solace. While I didn't collapse and feel desolate like before, I was still destroyed. She had been my life.
Just before she broke up with me, I had just landed my highest paying gig. I wasn't going to lose it this time. I did the best I could and soon raised to the top ranks of the team I was apart of. I recieved kudos from multiple portions of management for doing such a great job. I held that job down for two years as a contractor, then finally was finally let go because I started talking about unionizing the work force. We had been promised permanent positions after 6 months. After two years I had had enough.
I was burnt out at that point. I couldn't handle any more telephone technical support. It was killing me. I spent about 8 months on unemployment getting high and drunk and playing computer games. It was just after 9/11 so it was easy to hide. Tech workers across the region had been let go and we were all having a hard time finding a new job. The only difference is that I wasn't actually looking.
After 8 months I contacted and friend and told him I was looking for a job, and that I just couldn't go back to telephone technical support. He said he had an opportunity but that it wouldn't be easy getting it for me. I worked my ass to get it and then more so trying to keep up but in the end my alcoholism destroyed that opportunity. I wasn't able to stay sober. They even had beer available on the premises. I would drink all the time.
I left that job and stayed and moved back in with my parents for a time. It was horrible, because nothing had changed. They were still the same people they had been before, and I felt myself turning back into the person I had spent so much time trying to leave behind. After about a year I finally landed Desktop Support position in Seattle and moved out as fast as I could. I impressed management there enough that they hired me permanently as a Systems Administrator. Even though I didn't know much about the technology I supported, I studied and quickly became one of the leading administrators at the company. I had a senior that walked out on the company, and multiple business critical jobs fell on my shoulders. While I knew the technology to some degree, I was not a senior level administrator. But it fell to me, so I studied and I learned and I filled the position as best I could. I was credited with pulling two business critical projects out of the toilet and making them successful. By that time though, I was so stressed out I had to leave the company. I still have a standing offer with them to come back if/when I am ready.
Once I left there I used my new found skills and abilities to land a much more prestigious position with Microsoft working with the best in the world with cutting edge technologies. It wasn't long after I started working there that I was diagnosed with bi-polar II, ADD, and social anxiety disorder. I was started on a drug regiment that ended up changing my life. Suddenly, I wasn't depressed any more and social situations weren't so intimidating. So I started looking for new friends and decided I wanted a girlfriend.
That's where I am today. It's been a long, very hard and very lonely road. I still have trouble being vulnerable and trusting people, and I have no idea what it means to care for someone or to have someone care for you. The kindness of my first girlfriend had been all but forgotten. In the last 10 months I've been given a new lease on life, and it's hard to get used to the dramatic changes. You develop a lot of defenses coming up from where I was and living with an undiagnosed mental condition for the first 27 years of your life. You don't recover from it overnight.
So, I toil. I work hard to overcome my new challenges and it's the hardest thing I've ever done before. I am used to excelling at what I put my mind to, but this is not something linear thought can resolve. I have to learn a new way to think and feel, and I have to do it soon. If I don't, I am afraid that I will be alone for the rest of my life.
Pain, Suffering and Loneliness
Why is it that some of us are made to suffer? There is a difference between pain and suffering. Pain is something that is. It is that which we feel as a result of stimuli in our surroundings, and of itself just is. There is nothing about it that makes it good or bad. Suffering on the other hand, is by definition bad. It is a by-product of pain when we cannot understand why it is that we hurt. Or, perhaps in some cases a by-product of our knowledge of the source of our pain. It is something that we should endeavor to remove from our lives, but is almost impossible to do so.
Loneliness is the lack of connection with our fellow humans. Loneliness, at least to me, makes no sense. How can one stand in a crowd of people and still feel all alone, without connection to those that surround him or her? And when one has been alone their entire life, how does one learn to be connected?
Loneliness is the lack of connection with our fellow humans. Loneliness, at least to me, makes no sense. How can one stand in a crowd of people and still feel all alone, without connection to those that surround him or her? And when one has been alone their entire life, how does one learn to be connected?
God
Why is it that we believe in a God, a higher power that cannot be proven true or false, or even good or evil. All cultures and nations have it, and they continue to flourish despite the abject and dejective truth that science continually offers. Intelligent Design? Perhaps. But one must also accept the fact that we are an accident. We are just something that was made from nothing because everything turned out to be perfect. It's been known to happen before. The lottery is a weak example, but it will suffice. When circumstances line up perfect for an individual they get a large sum of money. It doesn't happen all the time, but it happens. And if you stretch that out to a larger scale, you see that life is like the lottery. It doesn't happen often but it does happen, and when it does its a miraculous event.
But I digress from the subject matter at hand. Why is it that we believe in a God(s)? We can calcuate and great many things, create simulators that help us design better objects, we can sometimes cure cancer, we have extended the lives of AIDS patients by years. Why is it that we believe in God(s)? Is there really something supernatural out there that we cannot see? Why does it hide itself? Why not make itself known and guide us through our journey he or she has created for us. The answer to that seems somewhat obvious. It is not the first step or the last step of a journey that matters, but all the steps that happen in between. We learn so much from where we travel, and if there was a supernatural force that gave us all the answers, we would simply be slaves. But what about prayer? We pray or sacrifice to our God(s) in an attempt to avert something or to gain something. Some of us put our whole heart into it, studying every inch of cypher or scripture that tells us about the God we want to know so much about. But when was the last time God answered a prayer directly? I've prayed to win the lottery, but haven't. I've prayed that my broken family be healed, and it hasn't. I've prayed that if I could just get a couple easy days at work, I would be able to make it, but they were not given to me. Is this conclusive proof that there is no God(s)? Absolutely not. We are talking about a superior being that supposedly designed us. And if we are really on a journey that he or she created, that why would he or she give us what we ask for. Wouldn't it make more sense to create to opportunity for us to get that which we want? If we prayed to win the lottery, we had the ability to buy a ticket. If we prayed for our broken family, we had a chance to mend it. If we prayed for relief from stress, we'd be given the chance to go to the gym.
Why does the God(s) stand by and let evil happen? Why was Hitler allowed to reigh supreme and cause the injustices he caused? Why are there dictatorships that oppress the weak and why are there terrorists willing to kill the innocent. I posit that the God(s) cannot or will not do anything about it. Like I said before, its not the first step or the last step. We must find our solutions to our own problems in order to survive.
In the end the God(s) will always be an enigma. Neither something we can prove or disprove. They will always provide us solace when we are hopeless and bravery in the face of danger. They will inspire us to write works that move the heart and they will be there if we die alone. How much does it matter if they are real or imagined if they can provide such unexpressable moments of inspiration and peace?
But I digress from the subject matter at hand. Why is it that we believe in a God(s)? We can calcuate and great many things, create simulators that help us design better objects, we can sometimes cure cancer, we have extended the lives of AIDS patients by years. Why is it that we believe in God(s)? Is there really something supernatural out there that we cannot see? Why does it hide itself? Why not make itself known and guide us through our journey he or she has created for us. The answer to that seems somewhat obvious. It is not the first step or the last step of a journey that matters, but all the steps that happen in between. We learn so much from where we travel, and if there was a supernatural force that gave us all the answers, we would simply be slaves. But what about prayer? We pray or sacrifice to our God(s) in an attempt to avert something or to gain something. Some of us put our whole heart into it, studying every inch of cypher or scripture that tells us about the God we want to know so much about. But when was the last time God answered a prayer directly? I've prayed to win the lottery, but haven't. I've prayed that my broken family be healed, and it hasn't. I've prayed that if I could just get a couple easy days at work, I would be able to make it, but they were not given to me. Is this conclusive proof that there is no God(s)? Absolutely not. We are talking about a superior being that supposedly designed us. And if we are really on a journey that he or she created, that why would he or she give us what we ask for. Wouldn't it make more sense to create to opportunity for us to get that which we want? If we prayed to win the lottery, we had the ability to buy a ticket. If we prayed for our broken family, we had a chance to mend it. If we prayed for relief from stress, we'd be given the chance to go to the gym.
Why does the God(s) stand by and let evil happen? Why was Hitler allowed to reigh supreme and cause the injustices he caused? Why are there dictatorships that oppress the weak and why are there terrorists willing to kill the innocent. I posit that the God(s) cannot or will not do anything about it. Like I said before, its not the first step or the last step. We must find our solutions to our own problems in order to survive.
In the end the God(s) will always be an enigma. Neither something we can prove or disprove. They will always provide us solace when we are hopeless and bravery in the face of danger. They will inspire us to write works that move the heart and they will be there if we die alone. How much does it matter if they are real or imagined if they can provide such unexpressable moments of inspiration and peace?
Learning
What exactly is it that we search for as humans? What is it that drives us to find it? Is it nature, nuture, or supernatural? Why do we always find ourselves in quandries without any answers? Philisophy is one method we have come up with the cope with our hopeless situation. Science is another answer to our desperate prayers.But in the end we are left with only questions, on a bright planet in a dark solar system that does not give us answers readily.
What is it that makes us continue to move forward. It's the will to survive. But what makes us seek answers to questions that may take decades to find? It's a peice of the human condition I find fascinating. What is truly amazing is that it is a fact that we cannot stand back and let life pass by us peacefully. It is a fact that we must question it, examine it, take it apart and find it's inner workings. We no longer toil to survive, we toil for the higher purpose of knowledge. The idea of being God excites us and scares at the same time. We want it so badly but are afriad of it.
Nuclear capability is an excellent case study into this fact. We created a power that could provide electricity to millions of homes or could wipe out nations. We still live under the threat of mutually assured destruction between the United States and former Russia. And yet, our thirst for knowledge is not even a little bit satiated. We pursue stem cell research, we pursue cloning, we debate whether these practices warrant acceptable ethics in a so called civilized land.
But I still ask; Why? What is it that we are looking for? Where does our curiousity come from? Will it ever have an end? In 100 years our lives will be antiquated stories taught to children in schools where they are taught knowledge and the thirst for it is created. Perhaps it's unfair to condemn schools as institutions that create the thirst of knowledge. I think it is more basic, that it is something that begins at birth. We are born as clean slates, without knowledge or wisdom, and as we grow we learn that the more we know, the more wisdom we gain, the more ability we have to complete the tasks that we want. When we are very young we want candy from the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet. We stipulate that if we position the drawers in a certain manner they will act as stairs. And as we reach the height of our climb, we look for more answers. We have learned from our childhood toys that you can stack things on top of each other to get higher, or that a stick can be used to push something. We use these tools to accomplish the tasks before us.
And as we get older, we are taught about more capabilities. We are taught about the alphabet, and about numbers and about reading. And on it goes. We are constantly taught new abilities until we can reach the world of capitalism and fend for ourselves. We use our learned abilities to search for more knowledge. To find the cure for a disease, or to find a good argument for a legal case, or to design an IT system that will withstand most common disasters. Each day we create something new, if we are lucky, that pushes mankind an inch closer to it's undeclared goal; to know all and to become like Gods.
And it all starts with a baby's want to walk.
What is it that makes us continue to move forward. It's the will to survive. But what makes us seek answers to questions that may take decades to find? It's a peice of the human condition I find fascinating. What is truly amazing is that it is a fact that we cannot stand back and let life pass by us peacefully. It is a fact that we must question it, examine it, take it apart and find it's inner workings. We no longer toil to survive, we toil for the higher purpose of knowledge. The idea of being God excites us and scares at the same time. We want it so badly but are afriad of it.
Nuclear capability is an excellent case study into this fact. We created a power that could provide electricity to millions of homes or could wipe out nations. We still live under the threat of mutually assured destruction between the United States and former Russia. And yet, our thirst for knowledge is not even a little bit satiated. We pursue stem cell research, we pursue cloning, we debate whether these practices warrant acceptable ethics in a so called civilized land.
But I still ask; Why? What is it that we are looking for? Where does our curiousity come from? Will it ever have an end? In 100 years our lives will be antiquated stories taught to children in schools where they are taught knowledge and the thirst for it is created. Perhaps it's unfair to condemn schools as institutions that create the thirst of knowledge. I think it is more basic, that it is something that begins at birth. We are born as clean slates, without knowledge or wisdom, and as we grow we learn that the more we know, the more wisdom we gain, the more ability we have to complete the tasks that we want. When we are very young we want candy from the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet. We stipulate that if we position the drawers in a certain manner they will act as stairs. And as we reach the height of our climb, we look for more answers. We have learned from our childhood toys that you can stack things on top of each other to get higher, or that a stick can be used to push something. We use these tools to accomplish the tasks before us.
And as we get older, we are taught about more capabilities. We are taught about the alphabet, and about numbers and about reading. And on it goes. We are constantly taught new abilities until we can reach the world of capitalism and fend for ourselves. We use our learned abilities to search for more knowledge. To find the cure for a disease, or to find a good argument for a legal case, or to design an IT system that will withstand most common disasters. Each day we create something new, if we are lucky, that pushes mankind an inch closer to it's undeclared goal; to know all and to become like Gods.
And it all starts with a baby's want to walk.
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