As a child I threw my emotions away, sealed them behind a door where I stored other seemingly useless junk. I was, at that time, served with constant bad emotions and thus developed a loathing for them - and an affinity for ignoring them.
I spent my days in a world of my own creation, a glorious realm of dreams, imagination and victorious battles against fictitious foes. I had a brother in arms, my closest friend, he and I went through most of the same things and were inseparable. We lived in that realm together, separate from the rest of humanity, bound by our similar plights and unwillingness to kneel or admit defeat.
Children have such great weapons against bad feelings - creativity and the ability to dream. As you grow older you are educated and taught that those things are not real, and thus stripping them of their power. By the time you are fourteen education has stripped you of your defenses and thrown you to the wolves, and then it's sink or swim.
We grew older and colder, more apathetic with every year and every episode of terrible home life. Through all of that we grew closer and more attuned to the needs of the other. Back to back we fought such terrible foes as depression, suicidal thoughts, the deaths of our closest family members, one sided love and the worst of all - an inability to relate to peers whom were simply not even close to our level of maturity. We were ancient men in the bodies of teenagers.
The resulting apathy, withdraw from society and total withdraw from any form of self was an inevitability. Only now are we able to go back to our roots and deal with sixteen year old demons.
A conversation from the present:
Him - "You know, facing them is tough even now. When those emotions break through I just feel desperate, I can't cope and I break down. At least you have figured out how better to deal with yours than I deal with mine." Me - "It's funny you should say that, I was kind of thinking you deal with them better than I do." Both - "*Laugh* *understood and non-awkward silence* *Lighting of cigarettes*"
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Monday, October 24, 2011
The systematic breaking down of an existential improbability.
This journal of sorts will now take a turn, and change into something new - as will the person writing it. In order to grow as a human I must understand myself all the good, the bad and the ugly. As such I will be storing research and thoughts here in relation to such a subject as what lies beneath the cracking walls of my inner defense.
This post is the beginning, and as with all beginnings there are terms which must be gone over and explained - such that the definition and use of said terms is set in stone.
First off, mental walls. Mental walls are formed by people under extreme emotional distress and are typically formed to function as a protection from the situation they deem unacceptable. These walls become their safety and their most imminent danger. They will seal the person up, cutting their ties and preventing them from making new ones.
Secondly, unreality. I will use this term loosely as it is simply easier than explaining the realm between reality and dreams that exists within the mental walls of one locked in one's own head. Think of this as more of a reference to a place than as a term objectively defined.
Finally, the beast. The beast is me, and I am the beast. We are two sides to a whole, always at war and never willing to give an inch to one another. This ubiquitous explanation will seem to fit like a glove the deeper into my story I get. You will understand the duality of my existence, or maybe not - we'll just have to see.
Today I set out on a journey to try and understand the feelings I sealed away so long ago, feelings that have set unattended for sixteen long years. Opening old wounds is a painful thing, but I have no time for weakness - no time to bleed. There is only to scar over and to move on, for growth is not something that can be put off until tomorrow, no - now I must grow or perish.
A short note before I end today's post:
My mental walls function in more ways than one. Their obvious purpose of keeping unwanted trespassers out of the deeper reaches of my conscious being is merely a secondary reason for the existence of my walls. My walls are primarily there to separate me from myself, to keep locked away that which should never be set free - my unbridled wrath and my inability to stably control the beast.
For sixteen years I have let anger, hatred, depression, and probably the most desperate times of my life sit and writhe beneath the shadows of mental walls. For sixteen years I have denied myself the ability to heal, to forget, and to let go. Over time that writhing mess has been twisted, contorted to a beast of a nature I am unable to deal with. I am at war with myself, and I can't blame my other half for being pissed that I left him in the cold abyss to grow morbidly hideous. Sometimes survival leaves us with few choices and without the luxury of kindness however, I did what I had to do.
This post is the beginning, and as with all beginnings there are terms which must be gone over and explained - such that the definition and use of said terms is set in stone.
First off, mental walls. Mental walls are formed by people under extreme emotional distress and are typically formed to function as a protection from the situation they deem unacceptable. These walls become their safety and their most imminent danger. They will seal the person up, cutting their ties and preventing them from making new ones.
Secondly, unreality. I will use this term loosely as it is simply easier than explaining the realm between reality and dreams that exists within the mental walls of one locked in one's own head. Think of this as more of a reference to a place than as a term objectively defined.
Finally, the beast. The beast is me, and I am the beast. We are two sides to a whole, always at war and never willing to give an inch to one another. This ubiquitous explanation will seem to fit like a glove the deeper into my story I get. You will understand the duality of my existence, or maybe not - we'll just have to see.
Today I set out on a journey to try and understand the feelings I sealed away so long ago, feelings that have set unattended for sixteen long years. Opening old wounds is a painful thing, but I have no time for weakness - no time to bleed. There is only to scar over and to move on, for growth is not something that can be put off until tomorrow, no - now I must grow or perish.
A short note before I end today's post:
My mental walls function in more ways than one. Their obvious purpose of keeping unwanted trespassers out of the deeper reaches of my conscious being is merely a secondary reason for the existence of my walls. My walls are primarily there to separate me from myself, to keep locked away that which should never be set free - my unbridled wrath and my inability to stably control the beast.
For sixteen years I have let anger, hatred, depression, and probably the most desperate times of my life sit and writhe beneath the shadows of mental walls. For sixteen years I have denied myself the ability to heal, to forget, and to let go. Over time that writhing mess has been twisted, contorted to a beast of a nature I am unable to deal with. I am at war with myself, and I can't blame my other half for being pissed that I left him in the cold abyss to grow morbidly hideous. Sometimes survival leaves us with few choices and without the luxury of kindness however, I did what I had to do.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Habits and rabbit holes.
Oh reality, how your bore me. Your basic principles explain everything about you, from chemical reactions to human wars and tectonic shifts. From volcanoes to hurricanes it's all dull and drab. Can't you ever shift and evolve with the rest of life? Can't you become something new to stimulate the brains of the few who actually seek to understand? Please for the love of all things stimulate our minds before they rot from boredom.
Oh but that's too much to ask, and so I do drugs. I stimulate my creative thought through way of enhancing reality with a little man made inspiration. A hallucinogenic here, a pain killer there keeps boredom at bay - and insanity looming on the horizon. Maybe insanity is the cure to my boredom though, every day would be an adventure then - every handful of pills a choice whether to be taunted by shadows on the wall or led through hills of emerald hue by happy pills to a place where I feel no pain. Ah but pain is reality isn't it? Those electrical impulses that make me feel more alive than happiness.
I'm just a carnal beast after all, happiness is quite boring to a beast that longs for action and not contentedness. The age of interest for me has past, now is the age of slow decline into an abyss of solitude, boredom, degradation of mind and finally death. Oh well, I think I can accept a future so bleak if it means a break from this boring reality we humans must endure.
Free me from this monotonous bull shit. Make me feel alive once more, it's better to burn out than to fade away after all.
Oh but that's too much to ask, and so I do drugs. I stimulate my creative thought through way of enhancing reality with a little man made inspiration. A hallucinogenic here, a pain killer there keeps boredom at bay - and insanity looming on the horizon. Maybe insanity is the cure to my boredom though, every day would be an adventure then - every handful of pills a choice whether to be taunted by shadows on the wall or led through hills of emerald hue by happy pills to a place where I feel no pain. Ah but pain is reality isn't it? Those electrical impulses that make me feel more alive than happiness.
I'm just a carnal beast after all, happiness is quite boring to a beast that longs for action and not contentedness. The age of interest for me has past, now is the age of slow decline into an abyss of solitude, boredom, degradation of mind and finally death. Oh well, I think I can accept a future so bleak if it means a break from this boring reality we humans must endure.
Free me from this monotonous bull shit. Make me feel alive once more, it's better to burn out than to fade away after all.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Those old familiar feelings
Of hatred, it is my life to drown in a sea of rage and blood. Or maybe simply to grow gills and breathe the intoxicating madness of contempt and adrenaline that embodies my rage. Anything can be a positive force, even a negative emotion can drive people to achieve great things. It's all about perception, and I see anger as a fuel to feed the fire of will that resides within me.
A friend of mine once put it something like this: "We are the trees that grow and bear fruit in the lifeless desert made of cold stone. That which would break most people simply drives us more strongly onward, that's what separates us from them."
My name is Keith, it means "From the battlefield" and that's exactly what I am.
A friend of mine once put it something like this: "We are the trees that grow and bear fruit in the lifeless desert made of cold stone. That which would break most people simply drives us more strongly onward, that's what separates us from them."
My name is Keith, it means "From the battlefield" and that's exactly what I am.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Thoughts of a gamer
I love games, quite possibly too much. It's fun to sit down and have a relaxing evening killing mother fuckers with a big ass axe in beautiful graphics. I will admit though I've grown spoiled when it comes to games, I have preferences, requirements and judgments which are all rather harsh. For simplicity I will refer to my gaming requirements and needs as laws.
Law 1, the law of realism.
I do not like to be put in a situation where I can't get into a game because my main character is exceedingly over-powered, that is to say that if I haven't put a fair amount of work into this character it shouldn't be able to decimate large groups with ease. As of now I am playing Two Worlds 2, and I've had to make about four tactical retreats so far to avoid being mauled by groups. I like that, make me run now and again, feeling like a god isn't what games are about - at least not games I play.
Law 2, the law of stability.
A game should not be released if it plays like a beta. Programmers are getting lazy these days as acclaim and brand-loyalty allows them to grow fat. I can accept small bugs like visual tearing or something that effects gameplay minimally (as long as there's a work around) but I am not ok with things like freezing, black screens, and quests which you are unable to complete due to a piece of the game having been forgetfully left out. My point being: check your shit, be a little mindful of the product you're selling to your loving fan base.
Law 3, the law of FUCKING MULTIPLAYER.
I like multiplayer gaming as much as the next guy, but basing a game on the multiplayer content is simply ignorant. In doing such a thing you lose the interest of the introverted customer base, seeing as not everyone wants to listen to a ten year old bitch about how you got a head shot on him. Sorry kids, if you can't take the heat get out of the kitchen.
Law 4, the law of story.
This law is less important to me, but is still important enough to be included in a choice on whether to purchase a game. Lore is important when you're bringing up technology whose basis has not been touched upon by reality. If you've got a laser gun in your game, but don't explain some basic principals on how it works I'm gonna fumigate. Hardcore gamers love lore, and they love to understand the concepts of the tools and techniques they use to be the hard asses they tend to be in the gaming world. Oh and of course the obvious thing, don't leave holes in the story - that's just god damn annoying.
It's not hard to please me as far as games go, assuming the developers did a fair job of implementing their concepts and ideals. Reading this, it looks like I'm demanding an awful lot but really all I'm asking for is a product worth looking at. These days we have the technology and the knowledge base to make better products than previously thought possible - use your tools and intellect. It's sad that in the year 2011 my all time favorite game came out in America for the console in 2004, up the ante and impress me baby.
On that note I will end my informative polite rant, after all it's not nice to gripe for long periods of time.
Law 1, the law of realism.
I do not like to be put in a situation where I can't get into a game because my main character is exceedingly over-powered, that is to say that if I haven't put a fair amount of work into this character it shouldn't be able to decimate large groups with ease. As of now I am playing Two Worlds 2, and I've had to make about four tactical retreats so far to avoid being mauled by groups. I like that, make me run now and again, feeling like a god isn't what games are about - at least not games I play.
Law 2, the law of stability.
A game should not be released if it plays like a beta. Programmers are getting lazy these days as acclaim and brand-loyalty allows them to grow fat. I can accept small bugs like visual tearing or something that effects gameplay minimally (as long as there's a work around) but I am not ok with things like freezing, black screens, and quests which you are unable to complete due to a piece of the game having been forgetfully left out. My point being: check your shit, be a little mindful of the product you're selling to your loving fan base.
Law 3, the law of FUCKING MULTIPLAYER.
I like multiplayer gaming as much as the next guy, but basing a game on the multiplayer content is simply ignorant. In doing such a thing you lose the interest of the introverted customer base, seeing as not everyone wants to listen to a ten year old bitch about how you got a head shot on him. Sorry kids, if you can't take the heat get out of the kitchen.
Law 4, the law of story.
This law is less important to me, but is still important enough to be included in a choice on whether to purchase a game. Lore is important when you're bringing up technology whose basis has not been touched upon by reality. If you've got a laser gun in your game, but don't explain some basic principals on how it works I'm gonna fumigate. Hardcore gamers love lore, and they love to understand the concepts of the tools and techniques they use to be the hard asses they tend to be in the gaming world. Oh and of course the obvious thing, don't leave holes in the story - that's just god damn annoying.
It's not hard to please me as far as games go, assuming the developers did a fair job of implementing their concepts and ideals. Reading this, it looks like I'm demanding an awful lot but really all I'm asking for is a product worth looking at. These days we have the technology and the knowledge base to make better products than previously thought possible - use your tools and intellect. It's sad that in the year 2011 my all time favorite game came out in America for the console in 2004, up the ante and impress me baby.
On that note I will end my informative polite rant, after all it's not nice to gripe for long periods of time.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Quantum autem ad mortem
Isn't it funny how humans obsess over things? Emotions, actions, objects, relationships, people and even dreams. It's the human condition to mull something over in your head for so long that it's bolted in there, and you can't stop mulling it over. It eats at you because maybe you need that something, or you don't understand it. There are several reasons this kind of thing occurs. In people with obsessive compulsive disorder it can be to avoid thinking about something else. In people with obsessive compulsive disorder the common defensive action is to find an activity or a number to focus on to keep from thinking intrusive thoughts which, by the time they have set in the head for a while, have been blown far out of proportion but are still real to the victim. An example of this is me, I do things in fours. I brush my teeth for four minutes, I take four paper towels, I use four ice cubes, I eat things in multiples of four and I even set the volume on the stereo in my car to a multiple of four based on the stereo unit's scale. Am I crazy? No, I'm just a little unwell.
You see, my obsession isn't exactly a small one and is far beyond my control. It has been set in for nine years now, hasn't gotten me yet, but eventually it will get to the point where it inhibits my life to some extent. My obsession is with death. It's a bad obsession to have, not because of suicidal or homicidal thoughts but because of the obsession itself. You can't understand death, even if you die and come back you can't put a grasp on it. You can't make it fit reality, because it's not real. Everything that's real ends with death. Even the fat lady sings for death.
That's so unacceptable to me that it's not even laughable. You see, I'm an analytical person - I need to explain things. If something can't be explained I have to find probable theories and choose one which I support best with the facts obtained and opinions on anything that can't be fact based. After I have a theory luckily I can stop there, I don't have to prove the theory as if I did I'd be bat shit insane right now. There are no theories for death though, it just is. Just like life, you can't explain why we're here or where we came from - but we're here and that's what matters. Life and death, you must have both or neither and that's just the way it is.
When I died, there was nothing on the other side. Really I'm reluctant to use the phrase "the other side" because there isn't one, but how else do you explain where you were exactly when saying you were dead. Damn man and his reasoning, his need to label things. When you die, as your senses fade things seem to happen slower. You notice your vision blur and sounds becoming muffled, you feel your blood course your veins ever slower and that feeling of the end comes creeping up on you. You hit the floor, and then it all just goes black. Most of the time that's it, it's over. Not for me, that would be too easy. No, next you wake up. Things just as slowly blur their way back into existence and you're left with a hole in your perception of reality.
Death ripped my life a new one, and never gave me anything to patch it with. Like a lover who has lost that special someone to death, my love waits on the other side of a missed heart beat - forever out of my reach and understanding. Reality can be a real bitch sometimes.
You see, my obsession isn't exactly a small one and is far beyond my control. It has been set in for nine years now, hasn't gotten me yet, but eventually it will get to the point where it inhibits my life to some extent. My obsession is with death. It's a bad obsession to have, not because of suicidal or homicidal thoughts but because of the obsession itself. You can't understand death, even if you die and come back you can't put a grasp on it. You can't make it fit reality, because it's not real. Everything that's real ends with death. Even the fat lady sings for death.
That's so unacceptable to me that it's not even laughable. You see, I'm an analytical person - I need to explain things. If something can't be explained I have to find probable theories and choose one which I support best with the facts obtained and opinions on anything that can't be fact based. After I have a theory luckily I can stop there, I don't have to prove the theory as if I did I'd be bat shit insane right now. There are no theories for death though, it just is. Just like life, you can't explain why we're here or where we came from - but we're here and that's what matters. Life and death, you must have both or neither and that's just the way it is.
When I died, there was nothing on the other side. Really I'm reluctant to use the phrase "the other side" because there isn't one, but how else do you explain where you were exactly when saying you were dead. Damn man and his reasoning, his need to label things. When you die, as your senses fade things seem to happen slower. You notice your vision blur and sounds becoming muffled, you feel your blood course your veins ever slower and that feeling of the end comes creeping up on you. You hit the floor, and then it all just goes black. Most of the time that's it, it's over. Not for me, that would be too easy. No, next you wake up. Things just as slowly blur their way back into existence and you're left with a hole in your perception of reality.
Death ripped my life a new one, and never gave me anything to patch it with. Like a lover who has lost that special someone to death, my love waits on the other side of a missed heart beat - forever out of my reach and understanding. Reality can be a real bitch sometimes.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Life is serious business!
Although, sometimes it can just be a big joke. It's all about perception, and how you let things get to you.
Today I'm filling philosophical so let's talk life approaches and whether they work. My approach to life has always been to take it as it comes and above all else to take it easy. I've had a really rough life, but I'm still here and I'm still taking it easy because that's just who I am. My reasoning for taking life as it comes is that plans change, things change, times change and well, I don't think I really need to keep saying change for you to understand. Life is an adaptation, everything changes we're just here to adapt and move on - and be as happy as we can while doing it. Personally I don't shoot for happiness, it belittles other things in my opinion. I think what is better than to be happy is to be satisfied, satisfaction has something of a refined dignified quality to it. That's just me though, I am not saying that happiness isn't a good goal - it's a great goal - it just isn't for me.
My basic philosophy stated, let's move to the deeper aspects of one's life. I'll just address some of the cultural big hitters from America - family, money, sex, and power. Here's the kicker, this one's gonna make you laugh and think I'm bat shit insane. I don't care about any of those. I love my family and I would do anything for them right down to dying so that they could live on. That doesn't mean I want children of my own - or even a girlfriend / wife for that matter. I'm sorry, I'm just not interested in that. Money is nice, but what are you gonna do with that corrupted paper when it's not worth anything anymore? Sex and I have never been too close to begin with, it's too much an invasion of personal space for me to enjoy. Last but not least power, the world could do without that shit. Still, change can only be brought about with the power to make it happen - but that power isn't violent, it's deep inside each and every one of us, it just needs to wake up and be heard.
Here is a week in my shoes: Monday through Friday I work as a computer programmer, locked away from the rest of humanity in my office making programs that will help to run the future of medicine, food, construction materials and dipping sauces alike. (The company I work for makes Xanthan Gum, read on it - shit's in everything.) After I get off work I smoke a cigarette or five and then go home and play a video game or read. I do not go to clubs, I do not go to bars, I do not go to Walmart unless I am in dire need. Saturday through Sunday I hang out with my four best friends, these guys are more like brothers to me than if they were indeed my flesh and blood. I love'em to death, and I would die for them faster than for my own family. We usually talk about random stuff, then we get philosophical and talk about the way existence is going and how long we give it to last. Some nights we drink, some nights we find other modes to the same end. Sometimes we just sit there. Yeah, just sit there.
That's a week in my life, to you it probably sounds boring. To me, it's fucking paradise. I am always calm, always relaxed and even in bad health I can wear a straight face and relax behind cold eyes. So now it's your turn, what is your philosophy on life - does it work for you? What would you change about it? (nothing is an acceptable answer, it is obviously mine.)
Take it easy my brethren.
Today I'm filling philosophical so let's talk life approaches and whether they work. My approach to life has always been to take it as it comes and above all else to take it easy. I've had a really rough life, but I'm still here and I'm still taking it easy because that's just who I am. My reasoning for taking life as it comes is that plans change, things change, times change and well, I don't think I really need to keep saying change for you to understand. Life is an adaptation, everything changes we're just here to adapt and move on - and be as happy as we can while doing it. Personally I don't shoot for happiness, it belittles other things in my opinion. I think what is better than to be happy is to be satisfied, satisfaction has something of a refined dignified quality to it. That's just me though, I am not saying that happiness isn't a good goal - it's a great goal - it just isn't for me.
My basic philosophy stated, let's move to the deeper aspects of one's life. I'll just address some of the cultural big hitters from America - family, money, sex, and power. Here's the kicker, this one's gonna make you laugh and think I'm bat shit insane. I don't care about any of those. I love my family and I would do anything for them right down to dying so that they could live on. That doesn't mean I want children of my own - or even a girlfriend / wife for that matter. I'm sorry, I'm just not interested in that. Money is nice, but what are you gonna do with that corrupted paper when it's not worth anything anymore? Sex and I have never been too close to begin with, it's too much an invasion of personal space for me to enjoy. Last but not least power, the world could do without that shit. Still, change can only be brought about with the power to make it happen - but that power isn't violent, it's deep inside each and every one of us, it just needs to wake up and be heard.
Here is a week in my shoes: Monday through Friday I work as a computer programmer, locked away from the rest of humanity in my office making programs that will help to run the future of medicine, food, construction materials and dipping sauces alike. (The company I work for makes Xanthan Gum, read on it - shit's in everything.) After I get off work I smoke a cigarette or five and then go home and play a video game or read. I do not go to clubs, I do not go to bars, I do not go to Walmart unless I am in dire need. Saturday through Sunday I hang out with my four best friends, these guys are more like brothers to me than if they were indeed my flesh and blood. I love'em to death, and I would die for them faster than for my own family. We usually talk about random stuff, then we get philosophical and talk about the way existence is going and how long we give it to last. Some nights we drink, some nights we find other modes to the same end. Sometimes we just sit there. Yeah, just sit there.
That's a week in my life, to you it probably sounds boring. To me, it's fucking paradise. I am always calm, always relaxed and even in bad health I can wear a straight face and relax behind cold eyes. So now it's your turn, what is your philosophy on life - does it work for you? What would you change about it? (nothing is an acceptable answer, it is obviously mine.)
Take it easy my brethren.
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