I was a pack a day smoker up until I was about 28 or so... I managed to finally quit for a few years. Then I went through one hell of a divorce. I started back with cigars and eventually wound up on those vapes. All that hard work kicking the habit for nothing. Not only have they kept jacking the price up, I have also had some scary moments where I'd cough so much I couldn't breathe in. It felt like drowning on dry land. Damn terrifying!! Well, now I would like to announce that today makes a month since I quit. It's wonderful to breathe again, and I've been rewarding myself with fast food and records with the money I no longer waste on that bad habit. It is so worth quitting. That stuff is poison, plain and simple.
I am thinking very seriously about quitting yet another bad habit this year. While those damn vapes were deteriorating my physical health, a certain social media site has been just as bad for my mental health. Now, they have gone and crossed yet another line. Now, while I am a true believer in free speech, I can understand why the wackos talking about bleach and conspiracy theories, putting people in danger, should be curtailed. It is when they meddle in everyday harmless things, where I get pissed off. And last night, for the first time ever, They tried to censor me. The thing is, it had nothing to do with politics or anything I mentioned above. It didn't involve anything that could even be remotely construed as offensive or disturbing to anyone. Yet there must have been something that their robots must not have liked. And really, does it matter? Not really, because this sudden affront to my expressing myself is only the icing on the cake. I have written about it in these ramblings here and there. The whole site is designed to draw people in and keep them there, and for many, it is not a pleasant place to be. It is designed to exploit our feelings of loneliness and disconnect. It is similar in concept to making the one armed bandits flash their pretty lights and make their exciting beeps and blips that make a poor soul keep putting their rent money in the slot. And just like that big payout that never comes, neither does any relief from said loneliness and disconnect. After all, a happy, loved, connected human being is not good for business. No, no, no. They can't draw in the money and the data unless you're constantly checking for fulfillment that will never come. The only difference is that you are gambling with your mental health (your life, really) instead of your money. And that, my friends, is far more dangerous. To say these people with their algorithms and their bots give a god damn about public health and safety or have any right whatsoever to claim the moral high ground has got to be the biggest joke of all, and not a very funny one at that. So, yeah, this has been a long time coming. Just as the scary drowning on dry land episodes plus the steep price hike got me to quit vaping, the exploitive mental, emotional environment, those so called targeted ads that kept accusing me of being some blue pill addicted, limp noodled, old baldy with sex on the brain, plus being censored for a John Lennon quote, made me finally quit Facebook. This may just be the year to throw out a bunch of exploitive unhealthy shit. Now, Twitter, on the other hand, I'll be keeping because my use of it has evolved in the last year or so. See, I mainly follow and very rarely actually post there. There, I get my daily dose of classic FPS games, visual novels, music, beautiful women, and yadda yadda Yoda (Star Wars memes). I follow in such a way that keeps the politics at a minimum. Those armchair think tankers can battle it out in their own arena. As for me, I seek only distractions that will make me happy. As for expressing myself, I do that here, at least verbally. I am thinking about maybe finding a place to express my passion for photography, nature, sunrises, and as Hightower from "Police Academy" once said, "Flowers and shit." Maybe somewhere like Deviant Art? I'll have to give that some thought as a place like that might actually get some foot traffic and notice. That's mostly a good thing, but I do tend to carry my heart on my sleeve, just like my mother did. It seems I have noticed even more in the year since she passed, just how much of her is within my own personality, and not just from realizing how often I quoted her sayings to my children when they were growing up. I have just seen how people can be so cruel to each other online, and it's just not something I could deal with very well. Momma always had a difficult time letting things go when it just served no purpose to be holding on to what only hurt to do so. It's funny how I could so easily point that particular flaw out, yet later find it just as strongly within my own personality. Momma, I could never deny being yours, as I see so much of you here. I am a weird cross between the two awesome individuals who brought me into the world. There are so many things I do or say and realize, That's Dad, or That's Momma. Dad had the temper. Momma had the super sensitivity. Me, I will start crying and want to fight. Anyway, what I'm saying is I certainly don't want ugliness of any kind. Maybe putting a few pretty pictures out there won't bring about anything bad. I mean, I wouldn't be calling myself a professional or anything like that, simply doing something that I love. Maybe I could even make a friend or two. I have no idea. Social situations are scary to me, always have been. Still, I have got to express myself. Maybe with words here and pictures there, I can do that. I really need a healthy place in which I can be as much myself as I possibly can. It is not only the fear of going mad with loneliness. It is also the burden of so much of my story never being told. I can't always come out and exactly say it, but with more than words, maybe I can get just a little closer. I need this so much. I am so tired of inescapable check boxes and targeted advertising. They miss the mark by a parsec. I am not him. I never was. I am not that guy who eats the blue pills and blinds the world with his forehead. My thoughts could not be further from what the algorithms think. Check box gender, check box age, check box race, check box demographic. It's all bullshit. I'm (fill in the blank), so I must like this or that or whatever. Bullshit! I am a unique human being. I am nobody's damn target. They get so many things wrong, yet claim to be the arbiters of truth. As I said, it's one big joke and not funny at all. Now, they can serve their blue pilled baldy advertising to someone who better fits that particular mold. I quote Dylan: It ain't me, babe. It ain't me you're looking for. Fact check this, you jerks, and keep those delusions of godhood to yourselves, eat a few blue pills, and buff that baldy to a mirror shine. Might I suggest Mr. Clean, Mr. Clean? Like I said, you are preaching to the wrong damn choir. Wow... Am I really that angry? Well, this so happens to be the place I vent, and I guess meddling with my expression is the express train to pissing me off. I've got to get this out somewhere. These are my words. This is me. Nobody has the right to change one iota. If they want different, they should go elsewhere and be who they wish to be. I won't tamper with their expression, so they shouldn't tamper with mine. Here, you get my true feelings. The question, "What is on your mind?" should never but never be disingenuous. And (As Bruce Campbell Elvis said in Bubba Ho-tep) Never but never fuck with the king. Thank ya. Thank ya very much.
I talked a few chapters ago about what I call the anxiety cycle, at least with me. Right now, I am in the final phase, as in the rapidly falling to earth stage, also known as the inevitable crash. My bed sounds so nice, and I am very much looking forward to copping some serious Z's. I'm gonna be like a bear in a cave. And I'm tiredah den da average bear, a voo va va voo! Getting that upset just does not do my body good, nor my mind. The only fix is sleep and a total reset. So, so, I've gotta go. If you happen to see the Zuck, tell him I said to Self himself, only replace that first Z with an F.
Goodnight Universe.
Sending my love.
Universe, Universe, Universe,
It seems you are here and not here.
It seems you're the same, so familiar to me.
It seems you're so different I don't know you anymore.
You seem as far as the stars, You seem so close
You are writing these words with me.
It seems I can can hear you, speaking to me.
The silence is deafening, you have never spoken a word.
I feel I know you better than even myself.
I feel I know nothing and never really knew at all.
I am a definite construction of my experiences.
I feel certain it was all just a dream.
Perception is all that's left, a choice really.
In believing she's still with me.
or believing myself insane.
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