Social justice and Micro Transgressions

A long time ago I got into a fight. A fight where a couple people representing a gang wanted to take the money of me and my friend. The lights were painting everything a sickly orange and I just lost my cool because for the umpteenth time someone thought that because they were part of a gang or a group or a clique or had more money or something else that they were better than me.

I am not better than anyone, and no one is better than me. It has taken countless pints of spilled blood, dozens of scars, a handful of broken teeth, and another of broken bones to learn that because moment to moment we only have we are in that moment. All we have one way or the other is defined in a single moment, and that is it.

Back to the street me and my friend took a fair beating, but that was when we learned that was their best shot. They figured it out about three seconds after us and tried pulling out some little switches. It may be a bad snapshot of me at the moment, but it was then that I felt free to do whatever I want because without a weapon I had to defend myself. Our opponents wouldn’t want to be heading back saying the got beat AFTER they pulled their blades. It just does not stand well in the grand scheme when you are always worried about looking weak.

I took a small nick next to my hairline, and if you squint you can still see where it started on the right side. Those blades never got another chance to do damage to us. It felt like hours when it really was minutes, but every second counted to them because every drop of blood they had let to the air I made sure to get out of them. One guy had a busted nose and jaw and to this day will not be in the same building as me, and he still has a limp to the left.

I bring this up because this was in an area that people would go out and bleed for what they wanted, for what they believed. I bled buckets and to see anything after wearing a crimson mask is difficult for the experienced and impossible for the first timer. Hearing the small things people get up in arms over micro transgressions or trying to enforce a backwards policy or deem something discriminatory without any evidence makes me sad. Those gangbangers and me and my friend fought and bled and it wasn’t unheard of for a kid in the grade to die to a botched drug deal or a meth house explosion or just because a fight went too far. Nearly a decade off and on over and over of fighting for what you think is right.

When I read things like how grammar, as it stands, is racist because according to the university, everything is racist which I disagree with wholeheartedly, but that is not the point of this writing. Those guys fought and bled and scratched and pulled every trick in the book, and those girls did the same to survive. I respect those people who had to fight a thousand times, no a million times more than the overly sensitive group of people that is making so much noise it should be a crime in itself. These criers only want something for them, they don’t care about anyone else as long as it proves their own case a little easier. The world is not perfect, not even close. I would rather take the time and look at a situation and gauge the evidence to actually help those who found themselves working against an unfairly stacked deck. Most of those people I beat down and beat the crap out of me. Well, they would too.

I wonder where all of this negative energy will fester in the world because eventually, it will set something alight that cannon be extinguished. Now that my venting is over, however, I am going to try and make the world the better place it can be, and hope I am good enough to do it.

Bad Blood

My family has what could be called a strained relationship. Just recently things took a pretty bad turn of events thanks to one person, and that would be my sister. If one has read this blog for a while one could make the assumption that everything wasn’t sunshine and daffodils. I won’t go until the full story because that would be another month of blog posts, and it really wouldn’t be worth it. What I can say is that through some rough times my sister and I could not be more opposite from each other.

While I fought for what I that was right, she was someone who wanted to be popular. This was done by dating every boy she could to the point that they (her ex-boyfriend)tried to goad me in a fight by exclaiming what they did in full earshot of everyone. She stole, but also got in to a lot of trouble with drug users and it got to the point where she would play what is now a well honed sympathy act to get as much as she  can out of people with the least amount of work. When you sit down and you see someone with unruly kids who doesn’t give one care when it does not benefit her, well then you have seen my sister.

Well, she owed me for a car I had let her borrow after my parents vouched she was turning over a new leaf. She then went to scrap my car out of spite without paying for it. That cost me about 1,200,and remember that because it will come back later.

In almost a year she has burned through four more cars with another one being on the repo list. When it comes to having her own place she hasn’t been able to hold her own for more then a couple moths at a time being evicted no less then three times before her 25th birthday.

Mom got sick of dealing with her living off of her especially when she doesn’t not try to do anything to help when it doesn’t help her. She also has a habit of trying to ruin anything anyone else has going to be the center of attention. All this was happening while I was living with my own apartment for the something like 8th year which after all that time living on my own my health started to drop. Which is where I am now I have to live with family because of my health problems and my sister wants me to forgive the debt if she pays for my first month rent so I can sign the lease for her to live there.

Safe to say since I cannot trust her I will not live with her.


Existential Nightmare

Since being hamstrung with all these medical issues, there has been a bit of a trap waiting for me. What has seemed like a little bit of reflection could very easily be turned to wondering something that a lot of us have a problem with grasping.

“Why am I here?”

These thoughts are often never fun stemming from negative experiences, or at least a negative mind frame, and when you are not feeling too good in your own head then you have to work almost ten times as hard. Even if it was something that you normally used to do.Once you lose the faith in yourself and wonder about your own meaning everything suddenly becomes almost impossible just as you explain to yourself that there is no reason to do it sapping all passion or skill you had for such things until all you can do is sit there and think about you own impending death.

Pretty depressing when you have to deal with it, but if you can get yourself through it then you can come out of it a lot more focused. I have three really big targets and a bunch of smaller ones which has been on here at various times. Bigger ones are pretty easy to guess, but it boils down to games, the company, and doing well for people.

Changing how I do everything due to the medical problems just make it harder, but not impossible. I just have to figure out another way to do it that maybe before I wouldn’t have thought, and it may seem so scary for others. I was terrified, and still am. Not being able to reach levels that were once easy just bothers me in that special way that headbutting walls seems therapeutic, not that it is possible.

So, thinking on the floor, wondering where life and I had our differences there was a memory that came back over and over.I think it reminded me of something I forgot so long ago and we shall see if there is a difference

Stupid People Stay Away

There are some days I would just like to enjoy the time and maybe get something done on a project. Work on editing, draw some things for the card game, hope the world can be a better more accepting place, and maybe hope for the future.

Nothing gets to me than the idiocy of a large group of very dimwitted people. Seriously, I understand learning disabilities I was told to have a couple, but I am shocked at the sheer duncery of a group of people who have told me to check my privilege.

So I did. These people who do not like ideas or opinions or even conversation that takes a half watt of brainpower to understand make me go back to being a problem solver, because by god the market needs one again. I once had a nice conversation with someone from the BLM group and while I do not agree with the group 100% there are things that could be good if they focused more on them. Back to the point I had a talk with someone who had a nice conversation as we went over our points to and fro in a respectful matter about things the group would have to do to become more of a mainstay and less of an extremist group.

Now some people may find it strange but people can actually get together to have a conversation despite having different opinions. It may seem strange, but do not worry because one day when your minds evolve you may find it needed for people of different pasts to work together for something like maybe a cure for cancer, a stable housing market, healing after a major world disaster or war.

Then we get people who believe that all white people need to bow to all black people because of something that happened more then a hundred years ago with a small viewpoint blown out of proportion until enough people are rattling it off looking like phone controlled twitter zombies and it makes me want to headbutt people with a longhorn skull.

Like someone who wanted reparations for every slave in America not thinking that also included child labor, the Irish, Jewish, Chinese and the Germans at various points in time. This person who was in another BLM branch then wanted to change their goals because they are not about helping people, no, this particular branch close to my own neck of the woods thought it should be all about Black lives, but they are not racist because white people are the majority in this country and through something missing the entire meaning in English deem that anything against the majority race of a country cannot be deemed a hate crime.

This logic dictates that I can go somewhere with another race as the majority and start the White Lives Matter movement? Cheer how some brainless dolts with the same amount of melanin as me do crimes that bring people’s eyes to our cause right should make me pleased, right? It doesn’t and anyone who thinks that it should get their head sweetly held by a pair of blue whales until it’s flatter than Justin Bieber’s talent pool. I actually feel for the people who look at these knuckleheads and just want to say they are from another group of lifeforms just to spare the associations with whatever group of pinheads may be vying for the right to represent a whole group of melanin levels.

So about that checking my privilege test backed by the group. I got 12, my sister got 14 and my father got 24. According to a test where if you are white or male counts for a couple to only get such scores made the test tell us we shouldn’t need to tell the world is unfair but surprise it seems we are part of the few that know it. Take this whole instigating race war hypocrisy horseshit and just shove all of it, piece by piece where it belongs which would be in a toilet while those left actually look to see if there is a problem before attempting to fix it because either way a united front will bring with it a united solution.

2016: The year of the suckage.

If I can just wipe out all of 2016 with a magic wand I would do it in a heartbeat. Mine sucked, and not many people had a better twelve months then suckage almost hard enough to get a golf ball through a garden hose.

Politics, sucked.

Media, sucked.

Health, sucked.

Progress, sucked.

Supplies, sucked.

Jobs, sucked.

It just all made me want to call a year long mulligan and try it all again tomorrow.

Still doing this, still learning, getting saltier every day which at least as a slang term I can enjoy using and that is a small victory, I suppose.

See you next year.

Dear Portlandia, screw you.

Some people may be reading this because of the series Portlandia. I personally cannot stand the thing’s existence. It used to be my spot reserved for stuff like South Park or Family guy, but I have never felt more insulted of my home then watching an episode of what some people call a satire.

I have even had some people want me to calm down, and take it for the comedy it is supposed to be. The problem is that if it does not make me laugh then it is not comedy to me, it is people taking a subject close to my heart and makign themselves look like utter fools with it.

What if someone made a show about everyone in San Francisco was a bunch of overly emotional nymphomaniac with sever mental disorders. I bet some would laugh, but some would still be insulted because somewhere where they may have established close friendships or found their loved one, made memories is being turned in to the butt of bad jokes.

Now, some may think I am overly serious. Most likely that is true, but I am not against the idea of a show like Portlandia, but the comedy that is supposed to make the reflection upon oneself go smoothly is rough and feels painful. I have tried watching it and fans I have spoke with have said it gets better I just can’t spare another moment of time nor a modicum of my remaining energies to try and understand this.

You want comedy in Portland, how about a transvestite putting a smack down on three gang members on a night Max from Chinatown. Cooks trying to backstab each other for horribly paid positions because a lot of them are just damn good at what they do. How the service industry in the city could double as a minute militia if the city was ever deemed dry by one of the dimwitted politician or social justice group. How strikes shut everything down or just piss people off when one group has barbecues to get their point across by giving away burgers and fries so people listen. Each of those could be funny, but just the way it is delivered needs to show the good and the bad which maybe they changed from the parts and episodes I tried to watch but it just looked like insulting garbage taking the best parts of a city and mocking them because of one reason for another.

If you like it, then great, but for the whole series of Portlandia, 

Screw you.


Nervous but Intrigued -Personal

Part of me is scared. I hit my head hard enough that I had a nice little ride to the emergency room. My balance seems like it is getting worse, but I cannot let this whole thing turn me into a hermit while there is so much to do, and there are still so many questions. Why did I gain 120 lbs in a week and not go up a size. Why is my balance and my back and shoulders shot to hell? Why do my limbs go numb for hours at a time making it harder to use them?

I have had to retrain my body to do things. I cannot cook like I want to without risking cuts or burns. If it wasn’t for the callouses my hands would look like charcoal by now, and all this bothers me because I felt I was so good at things. Despite how hard I pushed it was only looking back that the progress was seen. I hated how slow it went, but on the rare glances back I would have that monet of fleeting happiness before the next challenge lined up.

Some people said I was emotionally running away. I think it was more running to something. I always felt like my time had passed without me knowing, and since then I have felt like I have been in a constant battle against time. Not in the sake of life and death, but just getting that little bit more experience before moving to the next part of life that we all must face leaving this world to whatever is next. I guess it wouldn’t be a fight against the clock, but against the thought of total failure then now that I’m trying to put the thoughts to keyboard.

Rushing from one goal to another like I’m an old warrior looking fora fight, this way will not do me well to have it continue. That is where the intrigue comes in because I evolve to suit my conditions fairly well and I think it will get to the point soon because I am not just going to roll over and give it up. When I was 320 I could hit hard enough to break heavy bags enough to almost be banned from a gym after the third fix even off my bad leg I could stil do leg presses for reps at 600 which is not my original weight at about 900, but after a few years without trying to keep up with it you will lose some ability without bringing it back up.

I am intrigued to see where this wil leave me because maybe if I can get the balance things sorta settled maybe speed and endurance should be my next targets physically. After you train long enough in one thing it seems to stick better, and even now if I had to I could throw my weight around still it just cant happen so much since my balance has been shot so has my endurance or stamina. Still it may just be time to redesign myself with this new issues in mind, rebuild myself to the best of my ability before reclaiming what I think should be mine so to speak.

Short Update

I had some recent problems that cracked my spirit a bit bu I managed to get within 4k words. it is so close that it could be done provided I get one more day of good rest which seems to escape me.

Recently my father, who has been helping me out as my condition worsens as been touted as someone living at the apartment despite him driving to and fro almost every day. On top of that, there was a recent letter telling us we had to leave on December the 1st because of it. It had to take three different people telling them that a provision in their contract is against city law especially on what accounts for a guest. Their determination to keep with their contract despite it impacting what the city counts as renters rights.

Far be it for anyone to actually read the law. It is hard enough to fact check them because many times when you ask for a copy of the contract they will not give you one until it is signing time and they rush you through as soon as possible. We are still doing the channel when the living conditions get hammered out which may be in a fair amount of time. Where things stand now, I can still record portions of it as well as work harder on my writing and be learning to make art from the computer.

I am going to try and sleep once again.