Suicide + Grand Opening + Desire Fulfillmentby RiKD, July 29
The beat goes on... The beat goes on. I do not have any real urge to "carry out" suicide at the moment. I write "carry out" as it is more neutral than the negative "commit." "Achieve" would be too positive as Benatar writes. Suicide can be a solution to this existence but I agree that there should be no negative or positive connotation associated with it. I am possibly mostly writing this blog as I just feel it is the natural progression. I have a lot of time before I go into work and the novel I am currently reading has been a bit drab although it surely has its moments. I am dreaming about something that will fulfill my wish for a continuation of the Nietzsche, "Denial of Death," and "The Human Predicament" I have been reading. Philosophy just seems to excite me more.
Right now I am probably slightly more pleased than not. I had a great night of sleep, I enjoyed a bagel with vegan cream cheese and a coffee, I had an energy drink which the caffeine is still coursing through my veins and making me feel good. Last night was the grand opening of the Italian place that employs me. I messed up my very first official dish. I added 2 cups of olive oil instead of 1/2 cup to 5 lbs. of onions. I did my best to drain some of it before putting it on the stove but there was way too much and it did not cook properly. I made it work and then strained the rest of the olive oil after it was cooked. The rest of the night went mostly smoothly although I was called over to help ball dough which I do quite poorly. I was taught about 4 different ways and did 0 of them well. Why does everyone teach me at their advanced speed? I am a noob and quite possibly just not very good. I don't know if I am very gifted at the fine motor skills. I can chop vegetables pretty good but balling dough is just not in my skill set at the moment.
If I were a millionaire I would be better at fulfilling my desires? I can not change my desires. They come uncontrollably. Now, I think some semblance of psychic change is possible. I don't desire alcohol but I do desire to drink alcohol with out problems. I want to fuck Rihanna but I don't think this fact has much an effect on my quality of life. The desire for just general sexual relief may throb and pang a bit more heavily. Sometimes what I want is at least reasonable sex with a reasonably attractive woman. Not having these minimal desires satisfied surely has an impact on quality of life. I desire hanging out with friends is another one. I can't just go down to the bar so it is a little bit trickier for me. If I don't particularly want to hang out with the AA crowd I may get into a bit of a pickle. A pickle that I currently find myself in. I keep saying this but there have got to be ways. There is more I want to do with my life than just internetz, reading, movies before and after work. That is probably the big 3 in my life where I am lacking. I have desires regarding friends, dating, sex that are not being fulfilled and it has a major impact on my quality of life. Another one would be having my own place which leads to the desire of having a better job and all of that helps with friends, dating, and sex. It is all the same things for me. It has been since I can remember.
I am not suicidal though. I sometimes have suicidal thoughts at times. I don't really experience much physical pain besides when I have been on my feet for 6+ hours. The pain is not that bad. Sometimes I get hungry and sometimes I get thirsty. My quality of life is rather bad but not that bad. How much better would it really be if I had my own place and a host of friends and a rich dating life including the sex that I desire? Who knows? It is interesting to me how I would judge it. I would grow new desires. I have become quite detached from pop culture and advertising. Would I find myself attached once again? Getting out into the world would I feel that pull to be "cool" and "hip"? Would I desire the latest fashions? I really just want to be me and where the same t-shirts and jeans everyday. A simple, comfortable pair of shoes. It gets complicated in between that and suit and tie. I have 2 dress shirt and do not like wearing khakis. I despise the uniform of the herd. So I avoid areas with that dress code at almost all costs.
My heart still beats. I can still read the letters on this screen. The sun shines through the window. So, I go on. I go on 'til the bitter end. Whether by my own hand or nature. The universe does not care. I must find solace in these earthly things.
I don't really have much going on right now and figured I would reflect a bit. What comes to mind is I want to talk about quality of life, suicide, death, optimism delusion, pessimism. A lot of it will likely be rehashed ideas of David Benatar. He recently came out with a book "The Human Predicament." I started working and have been on short sleep and forgot what that was like but I really enjoyed the book and want to get some of these ideas and discussion out in the open.
I want to bring up pessimism first. I was having a chat with the corporate trainer today and for whatever reason he decided it was time to give my performance a review. One of the things he said was that I was "enthusiastic" and the first thing that came to my mind which I told him was "well, that is good I suppose. I can be quite pessimistic at times..." and he interrupted me and was like "Oh no no" as if pessimistic was some banned word. With some of these corporate guys you just mention the word pessimism and they get all uncomfortable. Everything is about passion and smiles (and improving the share price). I think a lot of these people's heads would explode if I explained that life was bad and extinction was the desirable option. Which given that viewpoint I was still enthusiastic about creating food over the last week so his review is not inaccurate. Maybe that is strange to some but I do have an attitude that my parents fucked up having me but fuck, man, I am here so we might as well make the best of it. That could be pragmatic optimism in the face of pragmatic pessimism. My life is not that bad that suicide makes sense. There was a point in time today that my back hurt, I was hungry, and I was thirsty. I wake up early and I am tired. I am in traffic and I have to run errands. This is every day type of stuff. Life is mostly striving. We are striving for pleasure, avoiding pain, and fulfilling desires. Most of our desires don't get fulfilled and much pain is worse than any fleeting pleasure. The optimism delusion is to look at all of this and I mean this is all pretty tame stuff. I am not even talking about cancer, paralysis, old age, dying and death. Life is tough and it is tragic.
Suicide is deprivation of future experience and annihilation of the body. I think at 33 my life has to be pretty bad with no hope for improvement. My life is pretty bad but it is not bad enough. I am glad that I did not actually kill myself on more than a handful amount of times that I was pretty close in the past. I don't know how long I can go with out friends down here. There is social exposure at work which is a plus. I will probably be fine getting home late dicking around on the internet or reading a book or watching a movie. We will see. I was actually fantasizing today that if the job is not going well and life continues to suck I can steal one of the chef's knives and slit my wrists in a solitary place. Then I thought of making a bath and locking the door so I bleed out quicker and then I would be found in a bathtub of blood. Wow, that is pretty dark writing it out. If things get too bad it is always an option! After enjoying plentiful mussels in a red curry sauce with family that is not the way to do it. I obviously would not want my parents to find me dead in a bathtub full of blood. I don't really want to hang myself with a belt or go the gun route. I don't even think I can go the gun route as I am not sure if I was 302'd in either of my trips to the psych ward. Oh well, it is just nice to know that it is possible to kill myself if things get bad enough.
Maybe I will touch on quality of life at a later time.
I have 550,000 starscoins and I forgot to cash them in before the recent update. Fuck. What could I do with them now? Is there no way to instantly turn it to cash? I don't play anymore. I already lost a few thousand by not converting them before starscoins were first introduced.
I am back on a Radiohead tangent. I was completely transcended by "Hail to the Thief" today. I was in the perfect mood for it plus I have not listened to it in a while. I was reliving my first listen, my first loves, while finding a new experience of joy, reverie, and liberation. By the time I got to Myxomatosis I might as well have been on another planet. They seduced me. I was the cobra in the basket. Sometimes it feels good to be a slave. A slave to exquisite seduction. The unblinking eye. I wish to not be in the bondage of self. Take me away. Take me away.
I am not sure if it is obvious but I am fixated with France, French culture, French language, French cuisine, French women. I am unsure if the last sentence will be related to anything I just wanted to make that confession.
I may come back to that but something else that I have been thinking about lately is cars. It relates to a video I was watching on the difference between France and America. The observation was that France was full of the same car usually a Peugot. The streets are lined with these small, reasonable cars. That was also something I noticed when I was there. I think most Americans would be appalled by the idea that everyone drives the same car. I am appalled by large SUVs and trucks. Just in the sense of a certain gaudiness to it. Here in America we celebrate our freedom with automobile grandeur. I guess it is also a celebration of capitalism, the steel industry, advertising, and herd culture. I have had 3 cars in my life: A used Hyundai Elantra, a Chevy Equinox that was a company car, and now a used Subaru Forester that was given to me. All pretty reasonable cars. I could understand a soccer mom wanting the Chevy Equinox over the Renault Clio IV. One thing I do not really get though is that from my experience there just is not that much difference between better than a junk car and below say a nice Porsche or other unique sports car. If we are going for status with maybe also fun to drive I do see the value in some of these cars. Even when I was younger my friend had a BMW M3 Sport and certainly in Wisconsin there was value to perceived status. That is kind of getting into the whole social hierarchy games. I think it is possible to choose who we play games with or to outright reject it but social hierarchies do exist. What I am saying is there were popular social spheres in Wisconsin where having a BMW M3 Sport was a good play. I got to drive it a fair amount as well and it was exceedingly fun to drive compared to my parents minivan growing up. My neighbor has a beautiful Porsche and I envy him in that regard to a degree. I don't really play in that social sphere anymore but there is a part of me that longs for owning a unique and exceptional sports car. With the BIG automobiles I think it is a matter of there being a certain audacity to it. An audacity inline with much of AMERICAN nationalism. Many of the license plates here have a big "IN GOD WE TRUST" centered with a large AMERICAN flag to the left. It's like where am I living? What am I doing?
I think where the fixation in France comes in is I wish to live there. I wish to read Flaubert and Cioran in French. That is an occupation that strikes me whenever any related topics come up. I will seriously look into learning French as I see that as how I would like to be spending some of my time.
We all need fancies to fill up our timeby RiKD, July 14
I have been drawn to stories recently. My kindle is almost out of batteries so figured I would write a blog and then walk the dog. I start my new job on Monday. I am actually a bit nervous about it. I know it is not the most prestigious job or anything like that but there are some nerves. It will be occupying 40 hours of my week. That is a lot of time. It will likely cover my current expenses. That seems to me to hit the basics of what people are looking for in jobs. I worry I will not like it. That I will be trapped there for 40 hours just to make ends meet. Welcome to the real world? I don't know. On the bright side I will be on my feet creating food. Perhaps I will meet some cool people. I guess I really don't have any expectations nor do I really want to put any expectations on the experience.
How do I spend my days now? I go on tangents. There is the Nietzsche tangent, the Hitchens tangent. I finished "Beyond Good and Evil" a few days a go and just don't really have the craving to continue to "The Genealogy of Morals." It was a fun trip to finally finish "Thus Spake Zarathustra" and "Beyond Good and Evil" but I have had my fill for now of Nietzsche. "Beyond Good and Evil" would have been a really good book to cover in some discussion class. I read it and was like ok this is pretty cool but I am sure I was missing some details or some cool insights. It can be quite the dense book at times where almost every sentence has layers to it. Oh well.
Recently I found myself on a Marion Cotillard tangent. I love her. I am watching all of her movies and then I watch interviews before or after. This brought me to an Audrey Tatoe interview which brought me to a random video and then I got hooked on this blue haired girl from France named Antastesia. I liked her videos on veganism and literature and then she comes out as an asexual. I found it all fascinating and it took up a lot of the day yesterday.
In this sense I am sure it will be healthy to get into the pizza shop and be helpful. I am kind of loving this rekindled passion for film and literature though. It started with reading Nabokov's review of "Demons" and Dostoevsky in general. Nabokov said he was a playwright whose plays are too long lol. I won't go on about that but I think the novel is one of the finest art forms. It can be so rich and so enchanting and is not confined to 2 hours. The imagination must be used. Film can be quite enchanting as well. It is all about the stories. I am a story addict.
I think it's time to take the dog for a walk. Au revoir.
I just remembered it was July 4. Independence Day for the U.S.A. Is it bad that nationalism can have the effect of sickening me? The U.S. is not a bad place to be all things considered but I have a hard time believing it is the greatest nation in the world. Especially when many proclaiming this have not been to anywhere else in the world. "But why should I?" they exclaim "The U.S. is the greatest nation in the world!" I'm listening to Bach to drown out my dad watching Trump downstairs. I usually only like writing when I am alone in silence but this will do. I can not escape the absurdity of the U.S.A. on a day like today. No, partying for me today. I am watching my little somewhat crazed nephew of one and a half years old. He cracks me up but he is also a terror of endless energy and audacity. It is for the better that we all stay in nothingness than to be brought into being with out any consultation but once they get here let us make the best of it! I am rooting for his mother to put him to bed early and that I don't hear a peep coming out of his room.
I wish to be stateless but if I could live anywhere it would have to be Paris, France. Maybe Denmark, or Sweden, or Berlin, Germany. It is really hard to tell what the "greatest" country would be. It all depends on the individual as well. One suited for Paris, Texas may not be suited for Paris, France.
I got a job. I will be working at a pizza shop. The wage will be keeping me at peasant status. I came across this quote the other day by Nietzsche:
"The best and dearest to me at present is still a sound peasant, course, artful, obstinate and enduring: That is at the present the noblest type."
So, I will continue to live as a sound peasant.
Except when I am golfing with my father. I found myself on the 6th or the 7th hole of this one particular course and I found myself lost in paradise. It was as if it was a mirage. I don't really have any business being on nice country clubs anymore but I did not play particularly well but felt transcended anyways. The sweet spot is bliss. I am liberated by a good shot. Sweet spots and scenery make for a great way to pass the time. If only I were not a peasant and could take this game more seriously.
I am sure I will be back on here in 3 months complaining about my new job and the peasant life. What can I do next is already a consideration. Sometimes I wish I was back as a student or a free wheeling, free spirited poker player. Those were the days and they may not ever get better. I only decay more as time goes by. Actually, the only time I really regret was my tour of duty as a multinational corporation sales rep turned alcoholic. Those were dark days. There were still some bright spots but multinational corporations are places where people like me go to die.
So, I must continue living as a sound peasant. I consulted Cioran on what one must do. Bach and Dostoevsky was the solution and of course writing.
"Our works, whatever they may be, derive from our incapacity to kill or to kill ourselves."
I like what he has to say on suicide too. It is so true that I love having the option to drink, to shoot heroin, to kill myself. Maybe I don't indulge. Maybe I indulge in all 3. For the time being I have found other things to do. I can not or will not kill myself at the moment so I better find some other things to do to deal with that. I will find other things to do. My mind does not like the thought of death and decay so will snap into some illusion or delusion. Life goes on. Existence in the absurd continues.
Does power make life better?
We are all going to decay and die but does power make that existence smoother?
The beautiful struggle some call it. The buddhists would say we must detach. We must not struggle. It is all striving for what? It is all illusion.
My nephew has a backside full of poop. I will likely die before him but no one knows. The fragility of life can strike at any moment. It makes me want to race fast cars and travel the world. Live dangerously and climb mountains as Nietzsche would say. One of my favorite days on this planet was watching the sunrise and climbing a mountain. Today, I have pastry and french roast coffee and Bach and writing on liquidpoker with my nephew flying around like a gnat. I love this gnat but he is a gnat regardless. I have many days that I have enjoyed on this earth. Many days that I have not enjoyed. There was the day I won $20,000 in Rosario, Argentina and got scalped 5th row center line for Argentina v Brazil. That whole trip was a dream. I love Argentina. If only my Spanish were not better. If only, if only, if only. So many "if only."
I am the sound peasant living my life. Suicide is great to keep in the back pocket or maybe somewhat hidden in a filing cabinet somewhere. I am the sound peasant that wants more. I wish to go to beaches and get a better 3 wood. I wish to meet today's LP. I wish to reunite with yesteryear's LP. In all honesty, I need some friends. Phone calls do not amount to much. Nothing like sitting outside at a cafe in a cool early autumn day. Taking a walk through the city. Having a seat at a welcoming patio. Coffee and cigarettes. What an amazing combination. I no longer smoke. I no longer wish to smoke. I am only a slave to psych meds today but obviously I still think about smoking cigarettes, I still think about marijuana, red wine, champagne, mdma, cocaine, mushrooms, heroin. I don't need comfort in the form of a substance today. Bring me reality. Illusion is unavoidable but bring me reality. I don't want to die. What can make me immortal even if it is not real? I want the the blue pill, please give me the blue pill. I want the blue pill, please give me the blue pill! Just a moment before I wanted the red pill but it is too much. I am weak. Ok, ok. Now, I would like the red pill. I am ready.....................
Walked in the door after 13 hours covering the general medical wards and say hi to my gf Sonya.
Sonya: "How was cover?"
Me: "Quiet, I only saw 1 patient in 13 hours and they died"
Sonya: "Fuck"
Me: "Yeah, they have end-stage interstitial pulmonary fibrosis. I got called to set up the clonazepam infusion because he was end-of-life care and he was pretty agitated. Spent 40 minutes on the phone to palliative setting up the pump. Last 30 seconds of the phone call and the nurse tapped my shoulder to tell me not to worry, he'd stop breathing".
Sonya: "Whoah, fuck"
Me: "Yeah it was pretty full on"
Sonya: "Do you know what this means?"
Me: "? what"
Sonya: "PERFECT K/D ratio!"
Sometimes terrible humor is the only thing that can cheer you up after an awful on-call. Thankfully she's the master of dark humor.
I don't speak falsehoods, I am sober, I am mentally healthy, and I am physically healthy. I live on about $1,000/month. Sometimes a bit less and sometimes a bit more. My parents are covering that for the time being. What am I lacking? Income, friends, and creative works of art. We have been over the income. I could be doing a better job at searching for one. I feel guilty that I am taking advantage of my parents. Friends can be a tough one. I have a ton of great friends in Pittsburgh, PA. If you have been following along I don't live there anymore. It has been tough making friends here. I haven't really been up for any meetup.com stuff. I have only sporadically been going to AA meetings. It seems a lot tougher this time around. When I got clean and sober in Pittsburgh over 3 years ago I knew no one in that city and seemed to get together some friends pretty quickly but I don't think that is entirely true. I am mostly happy just hanging out with the pets and watching tons of Netflix. Netflix and YouTube videos. I would like to discuss some of the stuff I am watching. I am also reading a fair amount. I liked when Loco suggested I read "Denial of Death" to "overcome my roadblocks." That was a fun project. I feel like there is still a lot I would like to discuss about that and on how to live life. I got back into some Sartre the other day too. The sum of my actions is a guy that lives in his parent's spare bedroom watching Netflix and YouTube videos hoping something stimulating will pop up on Liquidpoker.net. I don't think we have full freedom in choosing what we do with our lives. Our essence is not completely malleable. However, we are defined by what we do. I am a jobless bum that spends too much time on the internet. It is like I am not really an adult. One thing that I know is that I am not miserable. So, in many ways I am choosing this life because I know I am not miserable. I watched "Blue is the Warmest Color" last night and thought it was an excellent film. I crave a relationship like that. I crave my own version of Emma. Sometimes these things seem so far away. Another thing is the creative works of art. I always feel at my best when I am creating in someway. My friend was teaching me how to paint in Pittsburgh and there is really nothing here so far. I may look back into doing Improv or getting a legit stand up set together or trying to be a bit more inventive and get a short story in the works. Just something to get those creative juices going. I realize this has all been one big block of text. Oh well.
Need to trade Winner (Ipoker) for Skrillby Defrag, June 26
UPDATE:
need 530, offering 605$
Hey,
need to trade Ipoker cash (winner poker), since I cant cashout (Poland is blocked) for cash at Skrill/PartyPoker.
Got 605$ exactly, will trade for 560$ to Skrill/PartyPoker. Would prefer to receive the transfer first (obviously), back transfer might take a day or two since I have to make an affiliate payemnt request.
Thanks.
So it looks like you can get a pretty good supply of Jurema and Mimosa Hostilis online. A skilled chemist, or someone who was patient and had a steady hand would easily be able to distill pure DMT. The conventional solution is to use lye (of Fight Club acclaim) and Naptha (which is a soap).
Using just these two chemical ingredients it seems you can extract pure smoke-able DMT.
Personally as someone with a scientific mindset it seems like this might be a good idea...
On the other hand, this approach doesn't agree with me. Using just vitamin C pills and lemon juice (which are safe) you can extract a lot of DMT and create an extremely potent ayahuasca brew.
This preparation is actually as simple as treating water with crushed up vitamin C and lemon juice. Then you boil the ingredients 3 times (for saturation reasons) in the prepared water. This yields a very potent ayahuasca.
Roughly $10 of ayahuasca prepared this way lasts a long time. Since the ingredients are legal and can be purchased online, the accessibility is very convenient. I am committed to using them for physical training. So far I am quite happy with the ayahuasca solution against the DMT-only solution.
DMT seems to be very powerful. I have so far gotten much better experiences with the ayahuasca method than DMT-only. It may be better to care for your body.
I do not recommend mixing ayahuasca and mescaline, although the Peruvian torch is legal and is indigenous to same the geography.
I think the ayahuasca-diet is better than DMT-only and I am getting some good results this way. DMT seems to be a very powerful substance to be respected. I recommend the ayahuasca diet over DMT-only and not specifically for safety reasons.
I am actually surprised to be recommending this because I would suggest using Peruvian torch over San Pedro cactus. This seems to be a contradiction. The Peruvian torch is smoother and more drinkable with a more pleasant high.
Ayahuasca can be a bit unpleasant but I think this is good for the user. There seem to be more questions of moral irresponsibility regarding DMT than mescaline. Ayahuasca seems to be the recommended solution from mother nature, therefore if we are in doubt this is the best avenue.
I thought I would not say something like this, but I cannot see any reason to get "higher" than ayahuasca.
I would say all of my blogs I just have some thoughts on my mind and get them down on paper. Formulate them if I can. PuertoRican suggested I add pictures to my blog. So, I am going to do a blog of pictures. I don't take a lot of pictures but here are some.
This is Syd the Kid (Sydney) on my bed. I write a lot about The Kid and my bed. I love my bed and spend too much time in it. Syd the Kid does to. He is my friend and companion. A great part of my day is taking long walks on the beach with him and throwing toys into the water for him to retrieve.
Next are the cats. Seb the Reb (Sebastion) is the black and white one and Pee Kee (Pico) is the grey and white one. These are the tricksters in the house. Seb is like a weird, ornery guy but he loves to sit in my lap. Pee Kee is just a wildman always searching for food and critters. Seb was the first one to catch a lizard though.
I really like this door. The architecture and charm in downtown Charleston is unrivaled except for maybe Paris and New Orleans. I am sure there are other small cities in Italy and many other places that I do not know about. The point is the old houses, the ironwork, the gardens, no skyscrapers or any building larger than a church it all adds up to a very charming and magical city. I don't go in to the city much because I am afraid of not being able to find parking and I am broke so I can't really afford any of the nice restaurants or nice things. The cream, the red, the black lion knocker and the lantern I just love this photo.
So, I can not afford to be downtown. I have not checked how close I could get if I had a decent job. It may be far North where it can start to get dangerous. I am all for not yet gentrified areas but I don't really want to hear gunshots either. I live with my parents now in a suburb about 25 min. from downtown Charleston. It is in one of those nice developments. My dad was an executive in the steel industry. It allows them to support me and allows me to be lazier than I probably should be. I mean I am writing a blog write now instead of looking for jobs. My conscience feels pretty bad about that and it definitely hurts my self esteem. So, I will wrap this up. My parents live about 15 min. away from the beach. It is a lovely place to take a walk, people watch, take in the sounds. I love the water. I love the beach community. I can give the dog a walk on the beach and stop off at any number of great restaurants in my swim trunks with the dog. Here is a pic from Edisto Island. It is about 45 min. south of Charleston.
So, this is a takeaway. I don't apply to as many jobs as I should but where are all the decent jobs? I guess I have been in contact with Wake Forest University about going to get my Masters in counseling. I don't know if I want to do mental health or substance abuse and addiction. I still have to take my GRE and get letters of recommendation and all of that. That should not be too big of a deal. In the meantime I am just existing in Mount Pleasant (suburb of Charleston). I have my dog, I have my cats, I have the wondrous city which I never attend, and I have the beach which I go just about daily.
There is this character (Kirrilov) in this book I am reading (Demons) whose solution to the fear of death is to kill himself. Not only that he is open to taking the blame for crimes by writing a letter before he does it. That is just awesome. I love this book. Myself, I am just pretty ok with the fear of death. Most days it is repressed to a manageable level or not really a thought at all although it is always there simmering beneath the surface. It is what it is. It is fun for me to read about and talk about. After reading a book like "Denial of Death" it is hard to associate with people that are so strongly repressed, anchored, distracted. Don't tell me god is the solution. Please. We are not immortal. The name Picasso may be immortal but his consciousness is not. Even the paintings are quite fragile. Better than nothing. A whimper into nothingness. That could be what I have to show for all of this. No stoic death for me. A faint cry. A feeble plea. Grasping for something, anything. So, I better turn it around. I better be a hero! Without morality there is pain. Do I need Christ for morality? No. Why not get a job, get a god boss, get a god CEO, a god girlfriend and transcend? Because it is all a facade. But it works for some? No, no, no. I have to stand alone to some degree. It may be difficult but I have to do it. I just wish there were somewhere around here I could get painting lessons! (transcendence, immortality through works of art is what I crave. Even if I fall short it will be a worthwhile experience).
I slept in my own bed last night. If was phenomenal. I didn't shake the habit of sleeping too much though. I rollover and look outside at the light. I rollover and look out my door. I have no reason to get up besides picking up the dog from the veterinarian hotel. I don't think it's called that but wherever you take dogs to stay while on vacation. It is like sleeping in is ingrained in my brain at home while on vacation I was up at 8am everyday. Oh well, probably a bigger issue is that I don't like not having choice in shitting and I am afraid of death. There is an African tribe that adorns butt plugs to show the tribe that they don't shit. Really, we excrete a vile waste out of our control, our bodies are pathetic meat vessels, and most of us die a determinist death. Dostoevsky says in killing oneself we become a god. The hero accepts mortality. This is what we are told. People crave immortality. It is part of their repression of death. Everyone better be perfect or it challenges the immortality symbol. It sobers the whole crew but repression and delusion and distortion is stronger. All of my psychotic breaks boil down to an unrepressed fear of death, a fear of hell, a fear of nothingness, of no longer existing with a consciousness. Imagine every second of every day engulfed in chaos and fears of how it is all going to end. Anxiety run amok. Do I need hero narratives or can I accept the facts of life? Just as someone can overcome a fear of elevators it is probably possible to overcome the fear of death. Most of these ideas came from "The Denial of Death" by Ernest Becker. Really great book so far I have to continue reading it.
I am a worm. I am a worm who eats worms. I am a god worm. I bleed, I vomit, I shit. The most highly trained Navy Seal is still just a pathetic meat vessel at the end of the day. The bullets will still kill amongst a host of other things. At least the Navy Seal can kill his neurosis by killing the enemy and being a “hero.”
So, this blog post is going to be disjointed. The “Denial of Death” stuff just sort of came out. I took a trip to NYC and Valley Forge over a long weekend. I might just write about some points. Sitting in a car all day to get there was ok. I listened to some JRE and other podcasts. Michael Malice was good. Thanks whaam!. Conversation with fellow travelers seems to be the best way to pass the time. I found a gameboy unpacking but not Tetris. I used to love playing Tetris. If I had a Nintendo DS it would have been Chrono Trigger time.
On NYC:
We took a train in and got there relatively early. I love walking the streets. So many beautiful women. So many different flavors. That diversity is hard to come by. I think the percentage of attractive women is hard to come by as well. I haven’t been to Sweden or Brazil though. I love the Modern Museum of Art. I was getting lost in Cezzanne and Monet paint strokes. I got yelled at for getting too close to Starry Night. They have everything there. Beauty abounds in NYC.
On the yuppie costume, the yuppie life:
So, back when I was an Account Manager making like $60k/yr I had dreams of living in $3k+/month apartments, having wardrobes of designer clothes, and consistently going out for fine dining. So what I would do is buy expensive pieces of stuff so I have like 2 full yuppie costumes. It’s like I carry them around for special occasions. Today, I pretty much wear bermuda shorts and t-shirts every day and much prefer this uniform. So, I have gained some weight. I am looking like a bloated stockbroker in these clothes but they still fit. The damndest thing, I am at this fancy NYC restaurant and it feels right to be wearing this costume. It feels good. I am not really wearing a mask. The truth is my parents are covering the dinner but it is not necessarily hurting my self esteem. Living with them does, not having an occupation does, but for whatever reason that night I am feeling good. I am just a guy who has some nice clothes getting free rolled at a nice restaurant in NYC. I don’t have dreams of moving to Soho or Tribeca or Brooklyn anymore. I’ll put on the costume if the situation calls for it. I can’t fight every cultural battle but I would much rather take the dog for a walk on the beach and stop in to the local spot for a burger.
On weddings:
The best wedding I ever went to was not even a wedding. My sister had a marriage celebration and she was not even married yet. My mom tried her best to make it a reception with all the associated celebrations and my sister was like fuck off. It was just a dinner and then a bar crawl. My sister and her partner finally got married in a ghetto ass chapel that only included exchanging vows and 0 people. The only reason my sister even got married was to get on her partner’s health insurance. That is my kind of wedding.
After NYC I went to Valley Forge for my cousin’s wedding. It was like every other wedding ever except it was outside and I was in a wool suit in 90 degree weather. I wanted to wear what Indians wear to weddings but I couldn’t find anything in time. I am doing this in the future. This is one area where I will fight a cultural battle. If someone has their wedding outside I am wearing fucking Indian wedding attire.
It was good to see some family and it is great that my cousin is in love and has found somebody. I did not know many people at the wedding and had already talked a lot with my cousins the prior day. I don’t drink and did not feel like dancing so the “Party” section of the wedding was really boring. I went away from the loud music (and the wedding) and talked to friends on the phone. Maybe that makes me a bad guest but fuck it. Would I have a wedding if it guaranteed that I would make $100,000 in gifts? Would I have a wedding if it would please my family’s vanity? My ideal marriage is getting married to a stripper and doing heroine in the bathroom. No, that is just my knee jerk reaction to certain aspects of culture. I may have problems. I do have problems. Oh well, looking at this Monet above my computer calms me down and makes me happy so I will do more of that.
On cab drivers with life advice:
I had a cab driver yesterday that basically told me to find Christ, watch college football, get married, and have children. He told of his brother who he labeled as lonely that died alone to a diabetic incident. Then he rationalized and justified why having grandchildren was so great. The thing is he was 70 and had seen a lot. Where is the truth in this? Grandchildren probably are great. All the fun and non of the hassle. One has to have children in order to have grandchildren though. I don’t like the proposition of having children. I have no idea what I am going to be doing when I am 40-60 but sometimes the outlook looks grim. 60-80 seems even worse. That does not mean I should be going around having children as some sort of solution to this.
There is nothing like living vicariously through 18-22 year old college football players “going to battle.” The hero narratives are strong in sports. Reality tv. Gladiator games for the masses. A different kind of opium. No thanks.
Marriage is an interesting one. I would prefer to just have a loving partner. I would probably be the one getting married to get on her health insurance. The data shows partners get a little bit happier after getting married and then it tails off. The data shows bad marriages are incredibly miserable affairs but divorce obviously leads to some happiness. It does not seem like a good proposition.
Stories from the Emergency Room 1by doctorstu, June 05
I keep meaning to keep a journal of some of the stranger things that have happened in the emergency room this year and I figured I'd use this blog.
Case #1 - Almost dead woman with priorities
Pretty quiet morning in the high-acuity area when we get a call over the box. Pick up the radio and call all clear to proceed, EM says they have a ~50 year old woman, heroin overdose with GCS 3 who they've pumped with Naloxone but she's still struggling to not crash on them. Okay cool, see you in 5 minutes. Turn around a few times on my chair because I'm not on the resus team and wait to see what happens. She comes in virtually comatose with 2 lines already in and gets pumped with more naloxone. At this point I have a patient with DKA who needs attending so I go off for about 45 minutes.
I'm coming back from my DKA girl (who has subsequently gone to the bathroom, ripped her line out and absconded from the hospital because fuck me, right?) and I hear this ungodly screech:
"WHEEEEEEEEEEEERE'S MEEEE FUUUUUCKIN BAAAAAG!!!" and what looks like a hunched pile of rags shuffling through high-acuity.
No fucking way.
It's our heroin OD, she's up and she's PISSED she's been saved from her OD without her bag. Then here comes the kicker
"WHEN I WAKED UP IN OTHER HOSPITALS I HAD ME FUCKIN BAG!!"
10/10 priorities lady.
### Ask stu
Heroin OD a few days ago in resus.
Patient "I only took one hit"
Dr #1 "How much is a hit?"
Dr #2 "Ask someone"
Dr #1 "Who?"
Dr #2 "Ask stu"
Dr #1 "oh, yeah"
Me: ????
Go on some dates. If you like each other then fuck. Go on some more dates. If you still like each other get into a relationship.
This simplicity alluded me for many years. I don't know what I was thinking in high school. It is like that is where I should have learned this. In college I was probably a weird misogynist. I mean. Not really but I just thought women should have big asses and I don't even know. I did not date in college. I would rather play Diablo II or Warcraft III. I remember there was this girl from high school who told me she liked me in high school and basically made it possible to go hook up. I messed that up. That was my dating in college. I would run into girls I knew and have positive interactions but then just never follow up or go on dates. Then poker hit. I got all into the pick up artist bullshit at the time. I was all about "one night lays with dimes." I guess that was an adventure. I finally fucked a beautiful woman from a club. I remember feeling empty, anxiety that she is still in my bed. The scent of her hair on the pillow and watching her put on her black panties still stick with me to this day as blissful but it was kind of like existential crisis that anonymous same night lays aren't the holy grail of life. Why did I not want to date? Why always anonymous? To this day I get weary if the girl is too close. Never shit where you eat. I EAT EVERYWHERE!
I remember I finally asked this one girl out on a date I was real into. Man, she was sexy. Her reply, "No, I have to work tomorrow." Which it was in the morning on a business day. I just kind of nodded my head and walked out. No further questioning just nodded my head and walked out. I am weird.
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